
Class JES-lSJJL 
Book. 7Z.1- 



Copyriglrtl^ _ LAM. 



COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 



Two Men of Sandy Bar. 



% 2Brama. 



By BRET HARTE. 




BOSTON: 

HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND COMPANY 

Cfce Htoersifce Press, dDamfcrifcfl^ 



J9*<S 






| OCT 3 1904 
Oooyrfght Owy 

OL'ASS €L xxo. fco. 

Mi ?8 

COPYB 



Co, D YR13HT, 1876, 

By JAME?/£.' OSGOOD & CO. 

Copyright, 1904, 

By HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN & CO. 

All rights reserved. 



c* 



e4 



DRAMATIS PERSONS. 

: 

a "Sandy" Son of Alexander Morton, sen. . 

■ ( His fonner partner, person- ( „„ ,. e , 

* JOHN OAKHURST . . j atiug ^ ^^ ^ gandy> $ Prod**. 

Col. Starbottle . . Alexander Morton, sen.'s, legal adviser. 
Old Morton .... Alexander Morton, sen. 

Don Jose Father of Jovita Castro. 

,. Capper A detective. 

Concho Major-domo of Don Jose's rancho. 

York . An old friend of Oakhurst. 

Pritchard .... An Australian convict. 
Soapy ) ■**•■, 

Silky } Hls P als « 

| Confidential clerk of Alexander Morton, 

Jackson { jun., and confederate of Pritchard. 

Hop Sing A Chinese laundryman. 

Servant of Alexander Morton, sen. — Policemen. 

( The schoolmistress of Red Gulch, in love 
Miss Mary Morris . \ with Sandy, and cousin of Alexander 

I Morton, sen. 
_ „ f In love with John Oakhurst, and daugh- 

DONA JOYITA CASTRO, { ^ of Dou Jo ^ 

( "Wife of Pritchard, illegally married to 
The Duchess .... J Sandy, and former " flame " of John 

( Oakhurst. 

( Servant of Castro, and maid to Dona 
Manuela Jovita. 



Act I. 

The Rancho of the Blessed Innocents, and House of Don 
Jose Castro. 

Act II. 

Bed Gulch. 

Act III. 
The Banking-House of Morton & Son, San Francisco. 

Act IV. 

The Villa of Alexander Morton, sen., San Francisco. 



COSTUMES. 

Alexander Morton (" Sandy "). — First dress : Mexican vaque- 
ro; black velvet trousers open from knee, over white, trousers; 
laced black velvet jacket, and broad white sombrero; large 
silver spurs. Second dress: miner's white duck jumper, and 
white duck trousers; (sailor's) straw hat. Third dress: fash- 
ionable morning costume. Fourth dress : full evening dress. 

John Oakhurst. — First dress : riding-dress, black, elegantly 
fitting. Second and third dress: fashionable. Fourth dress: 
full evening dress. 

Col. Starbottle. — First dress: blue double-breasted frock, and 
white " strapped " trousers; white hat. Second dress: same 
coat, blue trousers, and black broad-brimmed felt hat ; cane, 
semper; ruffles, semper. Third dress : the same. Fourth dress : 
the same, with pumps. 

York. — Fashionable morning dress. 

Jackson. — Business suit. 

Concho. — First dress: vaquero's dress. Second dress: citizen's 
dress. 

Hop Sing. — Dress of Chinese coolie : dark-blue blouse, and dark- 
blue drawers gathered at ankles ; straw conical hat, and wooden 
sabots. 

Don Jose. — First dress: serape, black, with gold embroidery. 
Second dress: fashionable black suit, with broad-brimmed 
black stiff sombrero. 

Old Morton. — First, second, third, and fourth dress : black, stiff, 
with white cravat. 

Capper. — Ordinary dress of period. 

Miss Mary. — First dress: tasteful calico morning dress. Sec- 
ond and third dress : lady's walking costume — fashionable. 
Fourth dress : full dress. 

Dona Jo vita.— First dress: handsome Spanish dress, with manta. 
Second dress : more elaborate, same quality. 

The Duchess. — First dress : elaborate but extravagant fashion- 
able costume. Second dress : travelling dress. 

Manuela. — The say a y manta,- white waist, and white or black 
skirt, with flowers. 



TWO MEN OP SANDY BAE. 



ACT I. 

Scene 1. — Courtyard and Corridors of the Rancho. 

Manuel A {arranging supper-table in corridor l., 
solus - ]' There 1 Tortillas, chocolate, olives, and — 
the whiskey of the Americans ! And supper's ready. 
But why Don Jose chooses to-night, of all nights, 
with this heretic fog lying over the Mission Hills like 
a wet serape, to take his supper out here, the saints 
only know. Perhaps it's some distrust of his madcap 
daughter, the Doiia Jovita ; perhaps to watch her — 
who knows ? And now to find Diego. Ah, here he 
comes. So! The old story. He is getting Doiia 
Jo\ita's horse ready for another madcap journey. 
Ah ! [Retires to table.] 

Enter cautiously from corridor, l., Sandy Morton, 
carrying lady's saddle and blanket ; starts on observing 
Manuela, and hastily hides saddle and blanket in re- 
cess. 

Sandy [aside]. She's alone. I reckon the old 
man's at his siesta yet. Ef he'll only hang onto 

11 



12 TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. 

that snooze ten minutes longer, I'll manage to let that 
gal Jovita slip out to that yer fandango, and no ques- 
tions asked. 

Manuela {calling Sandy]. Diego ! 

Sandy [aside, without heeding her]. That's a sweet 
voice for a serenade. Round, full, high-shouldered, 
and calkilated to fetch a man every time. Only thar 
ain't, to my sartain knowledge, one o' them chaps 
within a mile of the rancho. [Laughs.] 

Manuela. Diego ! 

Sandy [aside]. Oh, go on! That's the style o' 
them Greasers. They'll stand rooted in their tracks, 
and yell for a chap without knowin' whether he's in 
sight or sound. 

Manuela [approaching Sandy impatiently]. Diego ! 

Sandy [starting, aside]. The devil ! Why, that's me 
she's after. [Laughs.] I clean disremembered that 
when I kem yer I tole those chaps my name was 
James, — James Smith [laughs], and thet they might 
call me "Jim." And De-a-go's their lingo for Jim. 
[Aloud.] Well, my beauty, De-a-go it is. Now, wot's 
up? 

Manuela. Eh? nosabe! 

Sandy. Wot's your little game ? [Embraces her.] 

Manuela [aside, and recoiling coquettishly]. Mother 
of God ! He must be drunk again. These Ameri- 
cans have no time for love when they are sober. 
[Aloud and coquettishly.] Let me go, Diego. Don 
Jose is coming. He has sent for you. He takes his 
jupper to-night on the corridor. Listen, Diego. He 
must not see you thus. You have been drinking 



TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. 13 

again. I will keep you from him. I will say you 
are not well. 

Sandy. Couldn't you, my darling, keep him from 
me? Couldn't you make him think he was sick? 
Couldn't you say he's exposin' his precious health by 
sittin' out thar to-night; thet ther's chills and fever 
in every breath? [Aside.] Ef the old Don plants 
himself in that chair, that gal's chances for goin' out 
to-night is gone up. 

Manuela. Never. He would suspect at once. Lis- 
ten, Diego. If Don Jose does not know that his 
daughter steals away with you to meet some caballero, 
some lover, — you understand, Diego, — it is because 
he does not know, or would not seem to know, what 
every one else in the rancho knows. Have a care, 
foolish Diego 1 If Don Jose is old and blind, look 
you, friend, we are not. You understand ? 

Sandy [aside]. What the devil does she expect ? — 
money? No! [Aloud.] Look yer, Manuela, you 
ain't goin' to blow on that young gal ! [Putting his 
arm around her waist.] Alio win' that she hez a lover, 
thar ain't nothin' onnateral in thet, bein' a purty sort 
o' gal. Why, suppose somebody should see you and 
me together like this, and should just let on to the 
old man. 

Manuela. Hush ! [Disengaging herself.] Hush 
He is coming. Let me go, Diego. It is Don Jose ! 

Enter Don Jose, who walks gravely to the table, ana 
seats himself. Manuela retires to table. 

Sandy [aside]. I wonder if he saw us. I hope h« 



14 TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. 

did: it would shut that Manuela's mouth for a month 
of Sundays. [Laughs.] God forgive me for it ! I've 
done a heap of things for that young gal Dona 
Jo vita ; but this yer gittin' soft on the Greaser maid- 
servant to help out the misses, is a little more than 
Sandy Morton bargained fur. 

Don Jose [to Manuela]. You can retire. Diego 
will attend me. [Looks at Diego attentively.'] 

[Exit Manuela. 

Sandy [aside"]. Diego will attend him ! Why, blast 
his yeller skin, does he allow that Sandy Morton hired 
out as a purty waiter-gal ? Because I calkilated to 
feed his horses, it ain't no reason thet my dooty to 
animals don't stop thar. Pass his hash I [Turns to 
follow Manuela, but stops.] Hello, Sandy 1 wot are 
ye doin', eh ? You ain't going back on Miss Jovita, 
and jest spile that gal's chances to git out to-night, 
on'y to teach that God-forsaken old gov'ment mule 
manners ? No ! I'll humor the old man, and keep 
one eye out for the gal. [Comes to table, and leans 
familiarly over the back o/Don Jose's chair.] 

Don Jose' [aside]. He seems insulted and annoyed. 
His manner strengthens my worst suspicions. He 
has not expected this. [Aloud.] Chocolate, Diego. 

Sandy [leaning over table carelessly]. Yes, I reckon 
it's somewhar thar. 

Don Jose [aside]. He is unused to menial labor. 
If I should be right in my suspicions ! if he really 
were Dona Jovita' s secret lover I This gallantry with 
the servants only a deceit 1 Bueno 1 I will watch him. 
[Aloud.] Chocolate, Diego 1 



TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. 15 

Sandy [aside], I wonder if the old fool reckons I'll 
pour it out. Well, seein's he's the oldest. [Pours 
chocolate awkwardly, and spills it on the table and Don 
Jose.] 

Don Jose [aside]. He is embarrassed. I am right. 
[Aloud.'] Diego 1 

Sandy [leaning confidentially over Don Jose's chair]. 
Well, old man 1 

Don Jose. Three months ago my daughter the Dona 
Jovita picked you up, a wandering vagabond, in the 
streets of the Mission. [Aside.] He does not seem 
ashamed. [Aloud.] She — she — ahem ! The aguar- 
diente, Diego.' 

Sandy [aside]. That means the whiskey. It's 
wonderful how quick a man learns Spanish. [Passes 
the bottle, fills Don Jose's glass, and then his own. Don 
Jose recoils in astonishment.] I looks toward ye, ole 
man. [Tosses off liquor.] 

Don Jose [aside]. This familiarity ! He is a gen- 
tleman. Bueno! [Aloud.] She was thrown from 
her horse ; her skirt caught in the stirrup ; she was 
dragged ; you saved her life. You — 

Sandy [interrupting, confidentially drawing a chair to 
the table, and seating himself ] Look yer ! I'll tell you 
all about it. It wasn't that gal's fault, ole man. 
The hoss shied at me, lying drunk in a ditch, you 
see ; the hoss backed, the surcle broke ; it warn't in 
human natur for her to keep her seat, and that gal 
rides like an angel ; but the mustang throwed her. 
Well, I sorter got in the way o' thet hoss, and it 
stopped. Hevin' bin the cause o' the hoss shyin% for 



16 TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. 

I reckon I didn't look much like an angel lyin' in that 
ditch, it was about the only squar thing for me to 
waltz in and help the gal. Thar, thet's about the 
way the thing pints. Now, don't you go and hold 
that agin her ! 

Don Jose. Well, well! She was grateful. She 
has a strange fondness for you Americans ; and at 
her solicitation I gave you — you, an unknown va- 
grant — employment here as groom. You compre- 
hend, Diego. I, Don Jose Castro, proprietor of this 
ranch o, with an hundred idle vaqueros on my hands, — 
I made a place for you. 

Sandy [meditatively']. Umph. 

Don Jose. You said you would reform. How have 
you kept your word ? You were drunk last Wednes- 
day. 

Sandy. Thet's so. 

Don Jose. And again last Saturday. 

Sandy [slowly]. Look yer, ole man, don't ye be too 
hard on me : that was the same old drunk. 

Don Jose. I am in no mood for trifling. Hark ye, 
friend Diego. You have seen, perhaps, — who has 
not V — that I am a fond, an indulgent father. But 
even my consideration for my daughter's strange 
tastes and follies has its limit. Your conduct is a 
disgrace to the rancho. You must go. 

Sandy [meditatively']. Well, I reckon, perhaps I'd 
better. 

Don Jose [aside]. His coolness is suspicious. Can 
it be that he expects the girl will follow him ? 
Mother of God ! perhaps it has been already planned 



TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. 17 

between them. Good ! Thank Heaven I can end it 
here. [Aloud.'] Diego ! 

Sandy. Old man. 

Don Jose. For my daughter's sake, you under- 
stand, — for her sake, — I am willing to try you once 
more. Hark ye ! My daughter is young, foolish, 
and romantic. I have reason to believe, from her 
conduct lately, that she has contracted an intimacy 
with some Americano, and that in her ignorance, 
her foolishness, she has allowed that man to believe 
that he might aspire to her hand. Good! Now 
listen to me. You shall stay in her service. You 
shall find out, — you are in her confidence, — you 
shall find out this American, this adventurer, this 
lover if you please, of the Dona Jo vita my daughter; 
and you will tell him this, — you will tell him that a 
union with him is impossible, forbidden ; that the 
hour she attempts it, without my consent, she is pen- 
niless; that this estate, this rancho, passes into the 
hands of the Holy Church, where even your laws 
cannot reach it. 

Sandy [leaning familiarly over the table]. But sup- 
pose that he sees that little bluff, and calls ye. 

Don Jose. I do not comprehend you [coldly]. 

Sandy. Suppose he loves that gal, and will take 
her as she stands, without a cent, or hide or hair of 
yer old cattle. 

Don Jose [scornfully]. Suppose — a miracle ! 
Hark ye, Diego! It is now five years since I have 
known your countrymen, these smart Americanos. 
I have yet to know when love, sentiment, friendship. 



18 TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. 

was worth any more than a money value in you* 
market. 

Sandy [truculently and drunkenly]. You hev, hev 
ye? Well, look yar, ole man. Suppose I refuse. 
Suppose I'd rather go than act as a spy on that young 
gal your darter 1 Suppose that — hie — alio win' she's 
my friend, I'd rather starve in the gutters of the 
Mission than stand between her and the man she 
fancies. Hey? Suppose I would — damn me! Sup- 
pose I'd see you and your derned old rancho in — 
t'other place — hie — damn me. You hear me, ole 
man 1 That's the kind o' man I am — damn me. 

Don Jose [aside, rising contemptuously]. It is as I sus- 
pected. Traitor. Ingrate ! Satisfied that his scheme 
has failed, he is ready to abandon her. And this — 
this is the man for whom she has been ready to sacri- 
fice every thing, — her home, her father ! [Aloud, 
coldly]. Be it so, Diego : you shall go. 

Sandy [soberly and seriously, after a pause]. Well, 
I reckon I had better. [Rising.] I've a few duds, 
old man, to put up. It won't take me long. [Goes to 
l., and pauses.] 

Don Jose [aside]. Ah! he hesitates! He is chan- 
ging his mind. [Sandy returns slowly to table, pours 
out glass of liquor, nods to Don Jose, and drinks.] I 
looks towards ye, ole man. Adios! [Exit Sandy 

Don Jose. His coolness is perfect. If these Amer 
leans are cayotes in their advances, they are lions in 
retreat! Buenol I begin to respect him. But it 
will be just as well to set Concho to track him to the 
Mission ; and I will see that he leaves the rancho 
alone. [Exit Josri, 



TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. 19 

Enter hurriedly Jovita Castro, in riding habit, with 
whip. 
So ! Chiquita not yet saddled, and that spy Con- 
cho haunting the plains for the last half -hour. 
What an air of mystery! Something awful, some- 
thing deliriously dreadful, has happened ! Either my 
amiable drunkard has forgotten to despatch Concho 
on his usual fool's errand, or he is himself lying help- 
less in some ditch. Was there ever a girl so perse- 
cuted? With a father wrapped in mystery, a lover 
nameless and shrouded in the obscurity of some 
Olympian height, and her only confidant and messen- 
ger a Bacchus instead of a Mercury! Heigh ho! 
And in another hour Don Juan — he told me I might 
call him John — will be waiting for me outside the 
convent wall ! What if Diego fails me ? To go 
there alone would be madness ! Who else would be 
as charmingly unconscious and inattentive as this 
American vagabond!* [Goes to l.] Ah, my saddle 
and blanket hidden ! He has been interrupted. Some 
one has been watching. This freak of my father's 
means something. And to-night, of all nights, the 
night that Oakhurst was to disclose himself, and tell 
me all! What is to be done? Hark! [Diigo, 
without, singing. ~\ 

" Oh, here's your aguardiente, 
Drink it down ! " 

Jovita. It is Diego ; and, Mother of God ! drank 
again ! 

Enter Sandy, carrying pack, intoxicated; staggers to 



20 TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. 

centre, and, observing Jo vita, takes off his hat respect* 

fully. 

Jovita [shaking him by the shoulders passionately]. 
Diego 1 How dare you ! And at such a time ! 

Sandy [with drunken solemnity]. Miss Jovita, did 
ye ever know me to be drunk afore at such a time ? 

Jovita. No. 

Sandy. Zachy so. It's abnormal. And it means 
— the game's up. 

Jovita. I do not understand. For the love of God, 
Diego, be plain! 

Sandy [solemnly and drunkenly]. When I say your 
game's up, I mean the old man knows it all. You're 
blowed upon. Hearken, miss I [Seriously and sober- 
ly.] Your father knows all that I know; but, as it 
wasn't my business to interfere with, I hev sorter 
helped along. He knows that you meet a stranger, 
an American, in these rides with me. 

Jovita [passionately], Ingrate I You have not 
dared to tell him ! [Seizing him by the collar, and 
threatening him with the horsewhip.] 

Sandy [rising with half -drunken, half -sober solemnity]. 
One minit, miss ! one minit ! Don't ye ! don't ye do 
that! Ef ye forget (and I don't blame ye for it), 
ef ye forget that I'm a man, don't ye, don't ye forget 
that you're a woman ! Sit ye down, sit ye down, so I 
Now, ef ye'll kindly remember, miss, I never saw 
this yer man, yer lover. Ef ye'll recollect, miss, 
whenever you met him, I allers hung back and waited 
round in the mission or in the fields beyond for ye T 
and allowed ye to hev your own way, it bein' no 



TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. 21 

business o' mine. Thar isn't a man on the ranch, 
who, ef he'd had a mind to watch ye, wouldn't hev 
known more about yer lover than I do. 

Jovita [aside]. He speaks truly. He always kept 
in the background. Even Don Juan never knew 
that I had an attendant until I told him. [Aloud.] 
I made a mistake, Diego. I was hasty. What am 
I to do ? He is waiting for me even now. 

Sandy. Well [with drunken gravity], ef ye can't 
go to him, I reckon it's the squar thing for him to 
come to ye. 

Jovita. Recollect yourself, Diego. Be a man I 

Sandy. Thash jus war I say. Let him be a man, 
and come to ye here. Let him ride up to this ranch 
like a man, and call out to yer father that he'll take 
ye jist as ye are, without the land. And if the old 
man allows, rather than hev ye marry that stranger, 
he'll give this yer place to the church, why, let him 
do it, and be damned. 

Jovita [recoiling, aside]. Sol' That is their plan. 
Don Jose has worked on the fears or the cupidity of 
this drunken ingrate. 

Sandy [zoitli drunken submission]. Ye was speaking 
to me, miss. Ef ye'll take my advice, — a drunken 
man's advice, miss, — ye'll say to that lover of yours, 
ef he's afeard to come for ye here, to take ye as yo 
stand, he ain't no man for ye. And, ontil he does, 
ye'll do as the ole man says. Fur ef I do say it, 
miss, — and thar ain't no love lost between us, — 
he's a good father to ye. It ain't every day that a 
gal kin afford to swap a father like that, as she does 



12 TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. 

know, fur the husband that she don't I He's a proud 
old fool, miss ; but to ye, to ye, he's clar grit all 
through. 

Jovita [passionately, aside']. Tricked, fooled, like a 
child! and through the means of this treacherous, 
drunken tool. [Stamping lierfoot.~] Ah! we shall seel 
You are wise, you are wise, Don Jose ; but your 
daughter is not a novice, nor a helpless creature of 
the Holy Church [Passionately.'] I'll — I'll become 
a Protestant to-morrow I 

Sandy [unheeding her passion, and becoming more 
earnest and self-possessed]. Ef ye hed a father, miss, 
ez instead o' harkinin' to your slightest wish, and 
surroundin' ye with luxury, hed made your infancy a 
struggle for life among strangers, and your childhood 
a disgrace and a temptation ; ef he had left ye with 
no company but want, with no companions but guilt, 
with no mother but suffering ; ef he had made your 
home, this home, so unhappy, so vile, so terrible, so 
awful, that the crowded streets and gutters of a great 
city was something to fly to for relief ; ef he had 
made his presence, his very name, — your name, miss, 
allowin' it was your father, — ef he had made that 
presence so hateful, that name so infamous, that exile, 
that flyin' to furrin' parts, that wanderin' among 
Btrange folks ez didn't know ye, was the only way to 
make life endurable ; and ef he'd given ye, — I mean 
this good old man Don Jose, miss, — ef he'd given 
ye as part of yer heritage a taint, a weakness in yei 
very blood, a fondness for a poison, a poison that 
soothed ye like a vampire bat and sucked yer lif &> 



TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. 23 

Dlood [seizing her arm~] ez it soothed ye; ef this curse 
that hung over ye dragged ye down day by day, till 
hating him, loathing him, ye saw yerself day by 
day becoming more and more like him, till ye knew 
that his fate was yours, and yours his, — why then, 
Miss Jo vita [rising with an hysterical, drunken laugh], 
why then, I'd run away with ye myself , — I would, 
damn me ! 

Jovita [who has been withdrawing from him scornfully']. 
Well acted, Diego. Don Jose should have seen his 
pupil. Tru&t me, my father will reward you. 
[Aside.'] And yet there were tears in his drunken 
eyes. Bah ! it is the liquor : he is no longer sane. 
And, either hypocrite or imbecile, he is to be trusted 
no longer. But where and why is he going ? [Aloud.] 
You are leaving us, Diego. 

Sandy [quietly]. Well, the old man and me don't 
get on together. 

Jovita [scornfully]. Bueno ! I see. Then you aban- 
don me ? 

Sandy [quickly]. To the old man, miss, — not the 
young one. [Walks to the table, and begins to pour out 
liquor.] 

Jovita [angrily]. You would not dare to talk to me 
thus, if John Oakhurst — ah ! [Checking herself] 

Sandy [drops glass on table, hurries to centre, and 
seizes Dona Jovita]. Eh! Wot! Wot name did 
you say V [Looks at her amazed and bewildered.] 

Jovita [terrified, aside]. Mother of God! What 
have I done ? Broken my sacred pledge to keep his 
name secret. No! No! Diego did not hear me! 



H TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. 

Surely this wretched drunkard does not know him. 
[Aloud.'] Nothing. I said nothing : I mentioned no 
name. 

Sandy [still amazed, frightened, and bewildered, pass* 
ing his hand over his forehead slowly]. Ye mentioned 
no name? Surely. I am wild, crazed. Tell me, 
miss — ye didn't, — I know ye didn't, but I thought 
it sounded like it, — ye didn't mention the name of — 
of — of — John Oakhurst ? 

Jovita [hurriedly]. No, of course not! You ter- 
rify me, Diego. You are wild. 

Sandy [dropping her hand with a sigh of relief]. No, 
no ! In course ye didn't. I was wild, miss, wild ; 
this drink has confused me yer. [Pointing to his head.] 
There are times when I hear that name, miss, — 
times when I see his face. [Sadly.] But it's when 
I've took too much — too much. I'll drink no more 
— no more ! — to-night — to-night ! [Drops his head 
slowly in his hands.] 

Jovita [looking at Diego — aside]. Really, I'm feel- 
ing very uncomfortable. I'd like to ask a question of 
this maniac. But nonsense! Don Juan gave me to 
understand Oakhurst wasn't his real name ; that is, 
he intimated there was something dreadful and mys- 
terious about it that musn't be told, — something that 
would frighten people. Holy Virgin! it has! Why, 
this reckless vagabond here is pale and agitated. Don 
Juan shall explain this mystery to-night. But then, 
how shall I see him? Ah, I have it. The night of 
the last festa, when I could not leave the rancho, he 
begged me to show a light from the flat roof of the 



TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. 25 

upper corridor, that he might know I was thinking of 
him, — dear fellow! He will linger to-night at the 
Mission; he will see the light; he will know that I 
have not forgotten. He will approach the rancho; I 
shall manage to slip away at midnight to the ruined 
Mission. I shall — ah, it is my father! Holy Virgin, 
befriend me now with self-possession. [Stands quietly 
at l., looking toward Sandy, who still remains buried in 
thought, as — 

Enter Don Jose ; regards his daughter and Diego with 
a sarcastic smile. 

Don Jose [aside']. Bueno ! It is as I expected, — 
an explanation, an explosion, a lover's quarrel, an 
end to romance. From his looks I should say she has 
been teaching the adventurer a lesson. Good! I 
could embrace her. [Crosses to Sandy — aloud. ] 
You still here ! 

Sandy [rising with a start]. Yes! I — a — I was 
only taking leave of Miss Jovita that hez bin kind to 
ine. She's a good gal, ole man, and won't be any the 
worse when I'm gone. — Good-by, Miss Jovita [ex- 
tending his hand] : I wish ye luck. 

Jovita [coldly]. Adios, friend Diego. [Aside, hur* 
riedly.] You will not expose my secret? 

Sandy [aside]. It ain't in me, miss. [To Dos 
Jose, going.] Adios, ole man. [Shouldering his pack.] 

Don Jose. Adios, friend Diego. [Formally.] May 
good luck attend you ! [Aside.] You understand, on 
your word as — as — as — a gentleman ! — you have no 
further communication with this rancho, or aught that 
t contains. 



16 TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. 

Sandy [gravely']. I hear ye, ole man. Adios. \_Goet 
to gateway, but pauses at table, and begins to Jill a glass of 
aguardiente. ] 

Don Jose [aside, looking at his daughter]. I could 
embrace her now. She is truly a Castro. [Aloud to 
Jovita.] Hark ye, little one ! I have news that will 
please you, and — who knows ? perhaps break up the 
monotony of the dull life of the rancho. To-night 
come to me two famous caballeros, Americanos, you 
understand: they will be here soon, even now. 
Retire, and make ready to receive them. [Exit 
Jovita.] 

Don Jose [aside, looking at Sandy]. He lingers. I 
shall not be satisfied until Concho has seen him safely 
beyond the Mission wall. 

Enter Concho. 

Concho. Two caballeros have dismounted in the 
corral, and seek the honor of Don Jose's presence. 

Don Jose. Buenol [Aside.] Follow that fellow 
beyond the Mission. [Aloud.] Admit the strangers. 
Did they give their names? 

Concho. They did, Don Jose, — Col. Culpepper 
Starbottle and the Don Alexandra Morton. 

Sandy [dropping glass of aguardiente, and staggering 
stupidly to the centre, confronting Don Jose and Con- 
cho, still holding bottle]. Eh! Wot? Wot name did 
you say? [Looks stupidly and amazedly at Concho and 
Don Jose, and then slowly passes his hand over his fore- 
head. Then slowly and apologetically.] I axes youl 
pardon, Don Jose, and yours, sir [to Concho], but 



TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. 27 

thought ye called me. No! — that ez — I mean — I 
mean — I'm a little off color here [pointing to hia 
head]. I don't follow suit — I — eh — eh! Oh! — 
ye'll pardon me, sir, but thar's names — perhaps yer 
darter will remember that I was took a bit ago on a 
name — thar's names sorter hangin' round me yer 
[pointing to his head'], that I thinks I hear — but b?,in' 
drunk — I hopes ye'll excoos me. Adios. [Staggers 
to gateway, Concho following.] 

Concho [aside]. There is something more in this 

than Don Jose would have known. I'll watch Diego, 

and keep an eye on Miss Jovita too. 

Exit, following Sandy, who, in exit, jostles against Col. 

Starbottle entering, who stops and leans exhaustedly 

at the wall to get his breath ; following him closely, and 

oblivious of Sandy Morton, Alexander Morton, 

sen. Enter Col. Starbottle and Alexander 

Morton, sen. 

Scene 2. — The Same. 

Col Starbottle [entering, to Don Jose]. Overlook- 
ing the insult of — er — inebriated individual, whose 
menial position in this — er — er — -household pre- 
cludes a demand for personal satisfaction, sir, I be- 
lieve I have the honor of addressing Don Jose Castro. 
Very good, sir. Permit me, sir, to introduce myself 
as Col. Culpepper Starbottle — demn me ! the legal 
adviser of Mr. Alexander Morton, sen., and I may 
add, sir, the friend of that gentleman, and as such, 
sir — er — er — personally — personally responsible. 



28 TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. 

Alexander Morton puritanically and lugubriously]. 
As a God-fearing and forgiving Christian, Mr. Cas- 
trD, I trust you will overlook the habitual profanity 
of the erring but well-meaning man, who, by the 
necessities of my situation, accompanies me. I am 
the person — a helpless sinner — mentioned in the 
letters which I believe have preceded me. As a pro- 
fessing member of the Cumberland Presbyterian 
Church, I have ventured, in the interest of works 
rather than faith, to overlook the plain doctrines of 
the church in claiming sympathy of a superstitious 
Papist. 

Starbottle [interrupting, aside to Alexander Mor- 
ton]. Ahem ! ahem ! [Aloud to Don Jose.] My 
friend's manner, sir, reminds me of — er — er — Earn 
Bootgum Sing, first secretary of Turkish legation 
at Washington in '45 ; most remarkable man — demn 
me — most remarkable — and warm personal friend. 
Challenged Tod Robinson for putting him next to 
Hebrew banker at dinner, with remark — demn me 
—that they were both believers in the profit ! he, 
he ! Amusing, perhaps ; irreverent, certainly. Fought 
with cimeters. Second pass, Ram divided Tod in 
two pieces — fact, sir — just here [pointing'] in — er — 
er — regions of moral emotions. Upper half called 
to me, — said to me warningly — last words — never 
forget it, — "■ Star," — always called me Star, — 
"Respect man's religious convictions." Legs dead; 
emotion confined to upper part of body — pathetic 
picture. Ged, sir, something to be remembered ! 

Don Jose [with grave Spanish courtesy]. You are 



TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. 29 

welcome, gentlemen, to the rancho of the Blessed 
Fisherman. Your letters, with their honorable re- 
port, are here. Believe me, senores, in your modesty 
you have forgotten to mention your strongest claim 
to the hospitality of my house, — the royal right of 
strangers. 

Morton. Angels before this have been entertained 
as strangers, says the Good Book ; and that, I take it, 
is your authority for this ceremoniousness which elso 
■were but lip-service and Papist airs. But I am here 
in the performance of a duty, Mr. Castro, — the duty 
of a Christian father. I am seeking a prodigal son. 
I am seeking him in his wine-husks and among his 
haii — 

Starbottle \interrupting\. A single moment. [2b 
Don Jose.] Permit me to — er — er — explain. As 
my friend Mr. Morton states, we are, in fact, at pres- 
ent engaged in — er — er — quest — er — pilgrimage 
that possibly to some, unless deterred by considera- 
tions of responsibility — personal responsibility — 
sir — Ged, sir, might be looked upon as visionary, 
enthusiastic, sentimental, fanatical. We are seeking 
a son, or, as my friend tersely and scripturally ex- 
presses it — er — er — prodigal son. I say scriptur* 
ally, sir, and tersely, but not, you understand it^ 
literally, nor I may add, sir, legally. Ged, sir, as & 
precedent, I admit we are wrong. To the best of my 
knowledge, sir, the — er — Prodigal Son sought his 
own father. To be frank, sir, — and Ged, sir, if Cul. 
pepper Starbottle has a fault, it is frankness, sir. 
As Nelse Buckthorne said to me in Nashville, in '47, 



30 TWO MEN OP SANDY BAR. 

f ' You would infer, Col. Starbottle, that I equivocate." 
I replied, "I do, sir; and permit me to add that 
equivocation has all the guilt of a lie, with cowardice 
superadded." The next morning at nine , o'clock, 
Ged, sir, he gasped to me — he was lying on the 
ground, hole through his left lung just here [illus- 
trating with Don Jose's coat], — he gasped, "If you 
have a merit, Star, above others, it is frankness ! " 
his last words, sir, — demn me. ... To be frank, sir, 
years ago, in the wild exuberance of youth, the son of 
this gentleman left his — er — er — er — boyhood's 
home, owing to an innocent but natural misunder- 
standing with the legal protector of his youth — 

Morton [interrupting gravely and demurely']. Driven 
from home by my own sinful and then unregenerate 
hand — 

Staroottle [quickly]. One moment, a simple mo- 
ment. We will not weary you with — er — er — his- 
tory, or the vagaries of youth. He — er — came to 
California in '49. A year ago, touched by — er — er 

— parental emotion and solicitude, my friend resolved 
to seek him here. Believing that the — er — er — 
lawlessness of — er — er — untrammelled youth and 
boyish inexperience might have led him into some 
trifling indiscretion, we have sought him success- 
ively in hospitals, almshouses, reformatories, State's 
prisons, lunatic and inebriate asylums, and — er — er 

— even on the monumental inscriptions of the — er 

— er — country churchyards. We have thus far, 3 
grieve to say, although acquiring much and valuable 
information of a varied character and interest, as far 



TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. 31 

as the direct matter of our search, — we have been, a 
think I may say, unsuccessful. Our search has been 
attended with the — er — disbursement of some capi- 
tal under my — er — er — direction, which, though 
large, represents quite inadequately the — er — er — 
earnestness of our endeavors. 

Enter Manuela. 

Manuela [to Don Jose]. The Dona Jovita is wait- 
ing to receive you. 

Don Jose [to Moeton]. You shall tell me further 
of your interesting pilgrimage hereafter. At present 
my daughter awaits us to place this humble roof at 
your disposal. I am a widower, Don Alexandra, like 
yourself. When I say that, like you, I have an only 
child, and that I love her, you will understand how 
earnest is my sympathy. This way, gentlemen. 
[Leading to door in corridor, and awaiting them.'] 

Starboitle [aside], Umph ! an interview with lovely 
woman means — er — intoxication, but — er — er — 
no liquor. It's evident that the Don doesn't drink. 
Eh ! [Catches sight of table in corridor, and bottle.] 
Oh, he does, but some absurd Spanish formality 
prevents his doing the polite thing before dinner. 
[Aloud, to Don Jose.] One moment, sir, one mo- 
ment. If you will — er — er — pardon the — er — 
seeming discourtesy, for which I am, I admit — er — 
personally responsible, I will for a few momectg 
enjoy the — er — er — delicious air of the courtyaid, 
and the beauties of Nature as displayed in the — ■ ei 
— sunset. I will — er — rejoin you and the — er — 
er — ladies a moment later. 



32 TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. 

Don Jose. The house is your own, seiior : do as 
you will. This way, Don Alexandra. 

[Exit, in door l., Don Jose and Morton, sen. 

Starbottle. " Do as you will." Well, I don't under- 
stand Spanish ceremony, but that's certainly good 
English. [Going to table.'] Eh ! [Smelling decanter.'] 
Robinson- County whiskey ! Umph ! I have ob- 
served that the spirit of American institutions, sir, 
are already penetrating the — er — er — superstitions 
ol — er — foreign and effete civilizations. [Pours out 
glass of whiskey, and drinks; pours again, and observes 
Manuela watching him respectfully.] What the 
Devil is that girl looking at ? Eh ! [Puts down 
glass.] 

Manuela [aside]. He is fierce and warlike. Mother 
of God ! But he is not so awful as that gray-haired 
caballero, who looks like a fasting St. Anthony. And 
he loves aguardiente: he will pity poor Diego the 
more. [Aloud.] Ahem! Senor. [Courtesies coquet* 
tishly.] 

Col. Starbottle [aside]. Oh, I see. Ged! not a bad- 
looking girl, — a trifle dark, but Southern, and — er 
— tropical. Ged, Star, Star, this won't do, sir; no, 
sir. The filial affections of JEneas are not to be sac- 
rificed through the blandishments of — er — Dodo — ■ 
I mean a Dido. 

Manuela. O senor, you are kind, you are good . 
You are an Americano, one of a great nation. You 
will feel sympathy for a poor young man, — a mere 
muchaco, — one of your own race, who was a vaquero 
here, senor. He has been sent away from us here 



TWO MEN OP SANDY BAR. 33 

disgraced, alone, hungry, perhaps penniless. [Wipes 
her eyes.~\ 

Col. Starbottle. The Devil ! Another prodigal. 
[Aloud.] My dear, the ca'se you have just stated 
would appear to be the — er — er — normal condition 
of the — er — youth of America. But why was he 
discharged ? [Pouring out liquor.'] 

Manuela [ iemurely glancing at the colonel] . He was 
drunk, seTior. 

Starbottle [potently]. Drunkenness, my child, which 
is — er — weakness in the — er — er — gentleman, in 
the subordinate is a crime. What — er — excites the 
social impulse and exhilarates the fancy of the — 
er — master of the house, in the performance of 
his duty, renders the servant unfit for his. Legally 
it is a breach of contract. I should give it as my 
opinion, — for which I am personally responsible, — 
that your friend Diego could not recover. Gedl 
[Aside.] I wonder if this scapegoat could be our 
black sheep. 

Manuela. But that was not all, senor. It was an 
excuse only. He was sent away for helping our 
young lady to a cavalier. He was discharged because 
he would not be a traitor to her. He was sent away 
because he was too good, too honorable, — too — 
[Bursts out crying.] 

Starbottle [aside]. Oh, the Devil ! this is no Sandy 
Morton. [Coming forward gravely.] I have never yet 
analyzed the — er — er — character of the young 
gentleman I have the honor to assist in restoring to 
his family and society ; but judging — er — calmly — 



34. TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. 

er — -dispassionately, my knowledge of his own father 
— from what the old gentleman must have been in 
his unregenerate state, and knowing what he is now 
in his present reformed Christian condition, I should 
say calmly and deliberately that the son must be the 
most infernal and accomplished villain unhung. Ged 
I have a thought, an inspiration. [To Manuela, 
tapping her under the chin.'] I see, my dear ; a lover, 
ha, ha ! Ah, you rogue ! Well, well, we will talk of 
this again. I will — er — er — interest myself in this 
Diego. [Exit Manuela.] 

Starbottle [solus]. How would it do to get up a 
prodigal ? Umph. Something must be done soon : 
the old man grows languid in his search. My posi- 
tion as a sinecure is — er — in peril. A prodigal 
ready-made! But could I get a scoundrel bad 
enough to satisfy the old man? Ged, that's seri- 
ous. Let me see : he admits that he is unable to 
recognize his own son in face, features, manner, 
or speech. Good 1 If I could pick up some rascal 
whose — er — irregularities didn't quite fill the bill, 
and could say — Ged! — that he was reforming. 
Reforming ! Ged, Star ! That very defect would 
show the hereditary taint, demn me ! I must think 
of this seriously. Ged, Star 1 the idea is — an in- 
spiration of humanity and virtue. Who knows? 
it might be the saving of the vagabond, — a crown of 
glory to the old man's age. Inspiration, did I say ? 
Ged, Star, it's ,a duty, — a sacred, solemn duty, f oj 
which you are responsible, — personally responsi 
ble. 



TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. 35 

Lights down half. Enter from corridor l., Morton, 
Don Jose, the Dona Jovita, and Manuela. 

Dona Jovita [stepping forward with exaggerated Span- 
ish courtesy"]. A thousand graces await your Excel- 
lency, Commander Don — Don — 

Starbottle [bowing to the ground with equal delight anc 
exaggerated courtesy] . Er — Coolpepero ! 

Dona Jovita. Don Culpepero! If we throw our- 
selevs unasked at your Excellency's feet [courtesy], if 
we appear unsought before the light of your Excel- 
lency's eyes [courtesy], if we err in maidenly decorum 
in thus seeking unbidden your Excellency's presence 
[courtesy], believe us, it is the fear of some greater, 
Borne graver indecorum "u our conduct that has with- 
drawn your Excellency's person from us since you 
have graced our roof with your company. We know, 
Sefior Commander, how superior are the charms of 
the American ladies. It is in no spirit of rivalry 
with them, but to show — Mother of God ! — that we 
are not absolutely ugly, that we intrude upon your 
Excellency's solitude. [Aside.] I shall need the old 
fool, and shall use him. 

Col. Starbottle [who has been bowing and saluting with 
equal extravagance, during this speech — aside]. Ged! 
she is beautiful! [Aloud.] Permit me er—^er — 
Dona Jovita, to correct — Ged, I must say it, correct 
erroneous statements. The man who should — er — 
utter in my presence remarks disparaging those — er 

— charms it is my privilege to behold, I should hold 
responsible, — Ged ! personally responsible. You — er 

— remind me of er— incident, trifling perhaps, but 



36 TWO MEN OP SANDY BAR. 

pleasing, Charleston in '52, — a reception at John C. 
Calhoun's. A lady, one of the demnedest beautiful 
women you ever saw, said to rne, "Star!" — sha 
always called me Star, — "you've avoided me, you 
have, Star! I fear you are no longer my friend." 

— •' Your friend, madam," I said. " No, I've avoided 
you. because I am your lover." Ged, Miss Jovita, a 
fact — demn me. Sensation. Husband heard garbled 
report. He was old friend, but jealous, rash, indis- 
creet. Fell at first fire — umph — January 5th. 
Lady — beautiful woman — never forgave : went into 
convent. Sad affair. And all a mistake — demn me, 

— all a mistake, through perhaps extravagant gal- 
lantry and compliment. I lingered here, oblivious 
perhaps of — er — beauty, in the enjoyment of 
Nature. 

Dona Jovita. Is there enough for your Excellency 
to share with me, since it must be my rival ? See, 
the fog is clearing away : we shall have moonlight. 
[Don Jose and Morton seat themselves at table.] 
Shall we not let these venerable cdballeros enjoy their 
confidences and experiences together? [Aside. ~] Don 
Jose watches me like a fox, does not intend to lose 
sight of me. How shall I show the light three times 
from the courtyard roof? I have it! [Takes Star- 
bottle's arm.'] It is too pleasant to withdraw. 
There is a view from the courtyard wall your Excel- 
lency should see. Will you accompany me? The 
ascent is easy. 

Siarbottle [bowing]. I will ascend, although, permit 
me to say, Dona Jovita, it would be — er — impossiblf 



TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. 3 a 

for me to be nearer — er — heaven, than — er — at 
present. 

Dona Jovita. Flatterer ! Come, you shall tell me 
about this sad lady who died. Ah, Don Culpepero, 
let me hope all your experiences will not be so fatal to 
us I [Exeunt Dona Jovita and Starbottle.] 

Morton [aside]. A froward daughter of Baal, and, 
if I mistake not, even now concocting mischief for 
this foolish, indulgent, stiff-necked father. [Aloud.] 
Your only daughter, I presume. 

Don Jose. My darling, Don Alexandro. Mother- 
less from her infancy. A little wild, and inclined to 
gayety, but I hope not seeking for more than these 
walls afford. I have checked her but seldom, Don 
Alexandro, and then I did not let her see my hand on 
the rein that held her back. I do not ask her confi- 
dence always : I only want her to know that when 
the time comes it can be given to me without fear. 

Morton. Umph 1 

Don Jose [leaning forward confidentially]. To show 
that you have not intrusted your confidence regarding 
your wayward son — - whom may the saints retui n to 
you! — to unsympathetic or inexperienced ears, I will 
impart a secret. A few weeks ago I detected an inno- 
cent intimacy between this foolish girl and a vaga- 
bond vaquero in my employ. You understand, it was 
on her part romantic, visionary; on his, calculating, 
shrewd, self-interested, for he expected to become my 
heir. I did not lock her up. I did not tax her with 
it. I humored it. To-day I satisfied the lover that 
His investment was not profitable, that a marriage 



38 TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. 

without my consent entailed the loss of the property 
and then left them together. They parted in tears, 
think you, Don Alexandra V No, but mutually hating 
each other. The romance was over. An American 
would have opposed the girl, have driven her to 
Becrecy, to an elopement perhaps. Eh? 

Morton [scornfully]. And you believe that they 
have abandoned their plans ? 

Don Jose. — I am sure — hush ! she is here I 

Enter, on roof of corridor, Starbottle and Jovita. 

Col. Starbottle. Really, a superb landscape I An 
admirable view of the — er — fog — rolling over the 
Mission Hills, the plains below, and the — er — er — 
single figure of — er — motionless horseman — 

Dona Jovita [quickly']. Some belated vaquero. Do 
you smoke, Seiior Commander ? 

Starbottle. At times. 

Dona Jovita. With me. I will light a cigarette for 
you : it is the custom. 

Col. Starbottle draws match from Ms pocket, and is 
about to light, but is stopped by Dona Jovita. 

Dona Jovita. Pardon, your Excellency, but we 
cannot endure your American matches. There is a 
taper in the passage. 

Col. Starbottle brings taper: Dona Jovita turm 
to light cigarette, but manages to blow out candle. 

Dona Jovita. I must try your gallantry again 
That is once I have failed. [Significantly.] 
Col. Starbottle relights candle, business, same results 

Dona Jovita. I am stupid and nervous to-night. I 
hare failed twice. [With emphasis.] 



TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR 39 

Col. Starbottle repeals business with candle. Dona 
Jo vita lights cigarette, hands it to the colonel. 

Dona Jovita. Thrice, and I have succeeded. [Blows 
out candle. ,] , 

Col. Starbottle. A thousand thanks ! There is a — 
er — er — light on the plain. 

Dona Jovita [hastily']. It is the vaqueros returning. 
My father gives a festa to peons in honor of your 
arrival. There will be a dance. You have been 
patient, Seiior Commander : you shall have my hand 
for a waltz. 

Enter vaqueros, their wives and daughters. A dance, 
during which the " sembi canca" is danced by Col. 
Starbottle and Dona Jovita. Business, during 
which the bell of Mission Church, faintly illuminated 
beyond the wall, strikes twelve. Dancers withdraw hur- 
riedly, leaving alone Manuela, Dona Jovita, Col. 
Starbottle, Don Jose, and Concho. Concho 
formally hands keys to Don Jose. 

Don Jose [delivering keys to Morton with stately 
impressiveness']. Take them, Don Alexandro Morton, 
and with them all that they unlock for bliss or bale. 
Take them, noble guest, and with them the homage 
of this family, — to-night, Don Alexandre, your 
humble servants. Good-night, gentlemen. May a 
thousand angels attend you, O Don Alexandro and 
Don Culpepero ! 

Dona Jovita. Good-night, Don Alexandro. May 
your dreams to-night see all your wishes fulfilled! 
Good-night, O Seiior Commander. May she von 
dream of be as happy as you ! 



40 TWO MEN OF. SANDY BAR. 

Manuela and Concho [together]. Good-night, O 
tenores and illustrious gentlemen ! May the Blessed 
Fisherman watch over you ! [Both parties retreat into 
opposite corridors, bowing. ,] 

Manuela . Concho. Morton. 

Don Jose. Jo vita. Starbottle 



Scene 3. — The same. Stage darkened. Fog passing 
. beyond wall outside, and occasionally obscuring moonlit 
landscape beyond. Enter Jovita softly, from cor- 
ridor L. Her face is partly hidden by Spanish man- 
tilla. 

Jovita. All quiet at last; and, thanks to much 
aguardiente, my warlike admirer snores peacefully 
above. Yet I could swear I heard the old Puritan's door 
creak as I descended ! Pshaw ! What matters ! [Goes 
to gateway, and tries gate.'] Locked ! Carramba ! I see 
it now. Under the pretext of reviving the old cere- 
mony, Don Jose has locked the gates, and placed me 
ji the c rstody of his guest. Stay ! There is a door 
leading to the corral from the passage by Concho's 
room. Bueno ! Don Jose shall see ! [Exit r.] 

Enter cautiously r. Old Morton. 

Old Morton. I was not mistaken ! It was the skirt 
of that Jezebel daughter that whisked past my door 
a moment ago, and her figure that flitted down that 
corridor. So ! The lover driven out of the house at 
four, r.M., and at twelve o'clock at night the young 



TWO MEN OP SANDY BAR. 41 

lady trying the gate secretly. This may be Spanish 
resignation and filial submission, but it looks very like 
Yankee disobedience and forwardness. Perhaps it's 
well that the keys are in my pocket. This fond con- 
fiding Papist may find the heretic American father of 
some service. [Conceals himself behind pillar of ci r- 
ridor.~\ 

After a pause the head of John Oakhurst appears 
over the wall of corridor : he climbs up to roof of cor- 
ridor, and descends very quietly and deliberately to 
stage. 

Oakhurst [dusting his clothing with his handkerchief]. 
I never knew before why these Spaniards covered 
their adobe walls with whitewash. [Leans against 
pillar in shadow']. 

Re-enter Jovita, hastily. 

Jovita. All is lost ; the corral door is locked : the 
key is outside, and Concho is gone, — gone where ? 
Madre di Dios ! to discover, perhaps to kill him. 

Oakhurst [approaching her\ No. 

Jovita. Juan! [Embracing him.] But how did you 
get here ? This is madness ! 

Oakhurst. As you did not come to the mission, I 
came to the rancho. I found the gate locked — by 
the way, is not that a novelty here? — I climbed the 
wall. But you, Miss Castro, you are trembling! Your 
little hands are cold ! 

Jovita [glancing around]. Nothing, nothing! But 
you are running a terrible risk. At any moment we 
may be discovered. 



12 TWO MEN OF SANDY BAIL 

Oakhurst. I understand you: it would be bad foi 
the discoverer. Never fear, I will be patient. 

Jovita. But I feared that you might meet Concho. 

Oakhurst. Concho — Concho — [meditatively]. Let 
me see, — tall, dark, long in the arm, weighs about 
one hundred and eighty, and active. 

Jovita. Yes; tell me! You have met him? 

Oakhurst. Possibly, possibly. Was he a friend of 
yours ? 

Jovita. No ! 

Oakhurst. That's better. Are his pursuits here 
sedentary, or active? 

Jovita. He is my father's major-domo. 

Oakhurst. I see: a sinecure. [Aside.] Well, if he 
has to lay up for a week or two, the rancho won't 
Buffer. 

Jovita. Well? 

Oakhurst. Well! 

Jovita [passionately"}. There, having scaled the 
wall, at the risk of being discovered — this is all you 
have to say! [Turning away."] 

Oakhurst [quietly']. Perhaps, Jovita [taking her hand 
with grave earnestness], to a clandestine intimacy like 
ours there is but one end. It is not merely elope- 
ment, not merely marriage, it is exposure! Sooner 01 
later you and I must face the eyes we now shun 
What matters if to-night or later? 

Jovita [quickly]. I am ready. It was you who — 

Oakhurst. It was I who first demanded secrecy; 
but it was I who told you when we last met that 
would tell you why to-night. 



TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. 43 

Jovita. I am ready; but hear me, Juan, nothing 
tan change my faith in you ! 

Oakhurst [sadly]. You know not what you say. 
Listen, my child. I am a gambler. Not the man who 
lavishes his fortune at the gaming-table for excite- 
ment's sake; not the fanatic who stakes his own 
earnings — perhaps the confided earnings of others — - 
on a single coup. No, he is the man who loses, — 
whom the world deplores, pities, and forgives. I am 
the man who wins — whom the world hates and 
despises. 

Jovita. I do not understand you, Juan. 

Oakhurst. So much the better, perhaps. But you 
must hear me. I make a profession — an occupation 
more exacting, more wearying, more laborious, than 
that of your meanest herdsman — of that which 
others make a dissipation of the senses. And yet, 
Jovita, there is not the meanest vaquero in this ranch, 
who, playing against me, winning or losing, is not 
held to be my superior. I have no friends — only 
confederates. Even the woman who dares to pity me 
must do it in secret. 

Jovita. But you will abandon this dreadful trade. 
As the son of the rich Don Jose, no one dare scorn 
you. My father will relent. I am his heiress. 

Oakhurst. No more, Jovita, no more. If I were 
the man who could purchase the world's respect 
through a woman's weakness for him, I should not be 
here to-night. I am not here to sue your father's 
daughter with hopes of forgiveness, promises of 
reformation. Reformation, in a man like me, meana 



44 TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. 

cowardice or self-interest. [Old Morton, becoming 
excited, leans slowly out from the shadow of the pillar, 
listening intently.'] I am here to take, by force if neces- 
sary, a gambler's wife, — the woman who will share 
my fortunes, my disgrace, my losses ; who is willing 
to leave her old life of indulgence, of luxury, of 
respectability, for mine. You are frightened, litfce 
dove : compose yourself [soothing her tenderly and 
sadly] \ you are frightened at the cruel hawk who 
has chosen you for a mate. 

Old Morton [aside]. God in heaven 1 This is like 
him! like me! — like me, before the blessed Lord 
lifted me into regeneration. If it should be ! [Leans 
forward anxiously from pillar]. 

OakTcurst [aside]. Still silent! Poor dove, I can 
hear her foolish heart nutter against mine. Another 
moment decides our fate. Another moment : John 
Oakhurst and freedom, or Red Gulch and — she is 
moving. [To Jo vita.] I am harsh, little one, and 
cold. Perhaps I have had much to make me so. But 
when [with feeling] I first met you ; when, lifting my 
eyes to the church-porch, I saw your beautiful face ; 
when, in sheer recklessness and bravado, I raised my 
hat to you; when you — you, Jovita — lifted your 
brave eyes to mine, and there, there in the sanctuary, 
returned my salute, — the salutation of the gambler, 
the outcast, the reprobate, — then, then I swore that 
you should be mine, if I tore you from the sanctuary. 
Speak now, Jovita : if it was coquetry, speak now ; ] 
forgive you : if it was sheer wantonness, speak now 
I shall spare you : but if — 



TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. 45 

Jovita [throwing herself in his arms']. Love, Juan ! 
I am yours, now and forever. [Pause.'] But you 
have not told me all. I will go with you to-night — 
now. I leave behind me all, — my home, my father. 
my — [pause] my name. You have forgotten, Juan, 
you have not told me what I change that for: you 
have not told me yours. 

Old Morton, in eager excitement, leans beyond shadow 
of pillar. 

OaJchurst [embracing her tenderly, with a smile]. If 
I have not told you who I am, it was because, darling, 
it was more important that you should know what 
I am. Now that you know that — why — [embar- 
rassedly] I have nothing more to tell. I did not wish 
you to repeat the name of Oakhurst — because — 
[aside] how the Devil shall I tell her that Oak- 
hurst was my real name, after all, and that I only 
feared she might divulge it ? — [aloud] because — 
because — [determinedly] I doubted your ability to 
keep a secret. My real name is — r Joohs up, and sees 
Morton leaning beyond pillar] is a secret. [Pause, in 
which Oakhurst slowly recovers his coolness.] It will 
be given to the good priest who to-night joins our 
fate forever, Jovita, — forever, in spite of calumny, 
opposition, or spies ! the padre whom we shall reach, 
if enough life remains in your pulse and mine to 
clasp these hands together. [After a pause.] Are 
you content ? 

Jovita. I am. 

Oakhurst. Then there is not a moment to lose. 
Retire, and prepare yourself for a journey. I will 
wait here. 



1G TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. 

Jovita. I am ready now. 

Oakhurst [looking toward pillar']. Pardon, my dar- 
ling: there was a bracelet — a mere trifle — I once 
gave yon. It is not on your wrist. I am a trifle 
superstitious, perhaps: it was my first gift. Bring it 
with you. I will wait. Go ! [Exit Jovit\ c 

Oakhurst watches her exit, lounges indifferently toward 
gate ; when opposite pillar, suddenly seizes Morton by 
the throat, and drags him noiselessly to centre. 

Oakhurst [hurriedly]. One outcry, — a single word, 
— and it is your last. I care not who you may be ! 
■ — who I am, — you have heard enough to know, at 
least, that you are in the grip of a desperate man. 
[Keys fall from Morton's hand. Oakhurst seizes 
them.] Silence ! on your life. 

Morton [struggling]. You would not dare ! I com- 
mand you — 

Oakhurst [dragging him to gateway]. Out you must 
go. 

Morton. Stop, I command you. / never turned 
my father out of doors ! 

Oakhurst [gazing at Morton]. It is an eld man! I 
release you. Do as you will, only remember that that 
girl is mine forever, that there is no power on earth 
will keep me from her. 

Morton. On conditions. 

Oakhurst. Who are you that make conditions? 
You are not — her father ? 

Morton. No, but I am yours ! Alexander Morton 
I charge you to hear me. 



TWO MEN OF SANDI BAR. 47 

Oalchurst [starting in astonishment; aside]. Sandy 
Morton,- my lost partner's father! This is fate. 

Morton. You are astonished; but I thought so. 
Ay, you will hear me now ! I am your father, Alex- 
ander Morton, who drove you, a helpless boy, into 
disgrace and misery. I know your shameless life? 
for twenty years it was mine, and worse, until, by the 
grace of God, I reformed, as you shall. I have stopped 
you in a disgraceful act. Your mother — God forgive 
me! — left her house, for my arms, as wickedly, as 
wantonly, as shamelessly — 

Oalchurst. Stop, old man! Stop! Another wort. 1 
[seizing him], and I may forget your years. 

Morton. But not your blood. No, Alexander 
Morton, I have come thousands of miles for one 
sacred purpose, — to save you; and I shall, with God's 
will, do it now. Be it so, on one condition. You 
shall have this girl; but lawfully, openly, with the 
sanction of Heaven and your parents. 

Oalchurst [aside]. I see a ray cf hope. This is 
Sandy's father; the cold, insensate brute, who drove 
him into exile, the one bitter memory of his life. 
Sandy disappeared, irreclaimable, or living alone, 
hating irrevocably the author of his misery; why 
should not I — 

Morton [continuing]. On on3 condition. Hear me, 
Alexander Morton. If within a year, you, abandon- 
ing your evil practices, your wayward life, seek to 
reform beneath my roof, I will make this proud Span- 
ish Don glad to accept you as the more than equal of 
his daughter. 



48 TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. 

OakTiurst [aside]. It would be an easy deception. 
Sandy has given me the details of his early life. At 
least, before the imposition was discovered I shall 
be — [Aloud.'] I — I — [Aside.] Perdition! she is 
coming ! There is a light moving in the upper cham- 
ber. Don Jose is awakened. [Aloud.] I — I — ■ 
accept. 

Morton. It is well. Take these keys, open yonder 
gate, and fly! [As Oakhurst hesitates.] Obey me. 
I will meet your sweetheart, and explain all. You 
will come here at daylight in the morning, and claim 
admittance, not as a vagabond, a housebreaker, but 
as my son. You hesitate. Alexander Morton, I, 
your father, command you. Go! 

Oakhurst goes to the gate, opens it, as the sound of 
Diego's voice, singing in the fog, comes faintly in. 

O yer's your Sandy Morton, 

Drink him down! 
O yer's your Sandy Morton, 

Drink him down! 
O yer's your Sandy Morton, 
For he's drunk, and goin' a-courtin'. 
O yer's your Sandy Morton, 

Drink him down! 

Oakhurst recoils against gate, Morton hesitates, as 
window in corridor opens, and Don Jose calls from 
upper corridor. 

Don Jose. Concho! [Pause.] 'Tis that vagabond 
Diego, lost his way in the fog. Strange that Concho 
ihould have overlooked him. I will descend. 



TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. 49 

Morton [to Oakhurst]. Do you hear ? 

Exit Oakhurst through gateway. Morton closes gate, 
and returns to centre. Enter Jovita hurriedly. 

Jovita. I have it here. Quick! there is a light in 
Don Jose's chamber; my father is coming down. 
[Sees Morton, and screams.'] 

Morton [seizing her']. Hush ! for your own sake; 
for Ms; control yourself. He is gone, but he will 
return. [To Jovita, still struggling.] Hush, I beg, 
Miss Jovita. I beg, I command you, my daughter. 
Hush! 

Jovita [whispering]. His voice has changed. What 
does this mean ? [Aloud.] Where has he gone? and 
why are you here ? 

Morton [slowly and seriously] . He has left me here 
to answer the unanswered question you asked him. 
[Enter Don Jose and Col. Starbottle, r. and l.] I 
am here to tell you that I am his father, and that he 
is Alexander Morton. 

TABLEAUX. 

Curtain. 
END OF ACT I» 



50 TWO MEN OF SANDY BAB. 



act n. 

Scene I. — Red Gulch. Canon of river, and distan. 
view of Sierras, snow-ravined. Schoolhouse of logs 
in right middle distance. Ledge of rocks in centre. 
On steps of schoolhouse two large bunches of flowers. 
Enter Staejbottle, slowly climbing rocks l., panting 
and exhausted. Seats himself on rock, foreground, 
and wipes his face with his pocket-handkerchief 

Starbottle. This is evidently the er — locality. 
Here are the — er — groves of Academus — the 
heights of er — Ida ! I should say that the unwilling- 
ness which the — er — divine Shakespeare points out 
in the — er — " whining schoolboy ' ' is intensified in 
— er — climbing this height, and the — er — alacrity 
of his departure must be in exact ratio to his gravi- 
tation. Good idea. Ged! say it to schoolma'am 
Wonder what she's like? Humph! the usual thin, 
weazened, hatchet-faced Yankee spinster, with an 
indecent familiarity with Webster's Dictionary ! And 
this is the woman, Star, you're expected to discover, 
and bring back to affluence and plenty. This is the 
new fanaticism of Mr. Alexander Morton, sen. Ged 
not satisfied with dragging his prodigal son out of 
merited obscurity, this miserable old lunatic commis- 
sions me to hunt up another of his abused relatives; 
some forty-fifth cousin, whose mother he had frozea 



TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. 51 

beaten, or starved to death! And all this to please 
his prodigal! Ged! if that prodigal hadn't pre- 
sented himself that morning, I'd have picked up — 
er — some — er — reduced gentleman — Ged, that 
knew how to spend the old man's money to better 
advantage. [Musing.'] If this schoolmistress were 
barely good-looking, Star,: — and she's sure to have 
fifty thousand from the old man — Ged, you might 
get even with Alexander, sen., for betrothing his 
prodigal to Dofla Jovita. in spite of the — er — evi- 
dent preference that the girl showed for you. Capital 
idea! If she's not positively hideous I'll do it ! Ged! 
I'll reconnoitre first! [Musing.] I could stand one 
eye ; yes — er — single eye would not be positively 
objectionable in the — er — present experiments of 
science toward the — er — the substitution of glass. 
Red hair, Star, is — er — Venetian, — the beauty of 
Giorgione. [Goes up to scJwolhouse window, and looks 
in.] Too early! Seven empty benches ; seven desks 
splashed with ink. The — er — rostrum of the awful 
Minerva empty, but — er — adorned with flowers, 
nosegays — demn me ! And here, here on the — er 
— very threshold [looking down], floral tributes. 
The — er — conceit of these New England schocl- 
ma'ams, and their — er — evident Jesuitical influence 
over the young, is fraught, sir, fraught with — er — 
darkly political significance. Eh, Ged! there's a 
caricature on the blackboard. [Laughing.] Ha, lia! 
Absurd chalk outline of ridiculous fat person. Evi- 
dently the schoolma'am's admirer. Ged! immensely 
funny! Ah! boys will be boys. Like you, Star, just 



52 TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. 

like you, — always up to tricks like that. A sentence 
scrawled below the figure seems to be — er — expla- 
nation. Hem! [Takes out eye glass. ] Let's see [read' 
ing. ] ' ' This is old ' ' — old — er — old — demme, sir \ 
— " Starbottle! " This is infamous. I haven't been 
forty-eight hours in the place, and to my certain 
knowledge haven't spoken to a child. Ged, sir, it : i 
the — er — posting of a libel! The woman, the 
— er — female, who permits this kind of thing, should 
be made responsible — er — personally responsible. 
Eh, hush! What have we here? [Retires to ledge of 
rocks.'] 

Enter Miss Mary l. , reading letter. 

Miss Mary. Strange! Is it all a dream? No I 
here are the familiar rocks, the distant snow-peaks, 
the schoolhouse, the spring below. An hour ago I 
was the poor schoolmistress of Red Gulch, with no 
ambition nor hope beyond this mountain wall; and 
now — oh, it must be a dream ! But here is the letter. 
Certainly this is no delusion: it is too plain, formal, 
business-like. [Reads."] 

My dear Cousin, — I address the only surviving 
child of my cousin Mary and her husband John 
Morris, both deceased. It is my duty as a Chris- 
tian relative to provide you with a home, — to share 
with you that wealth and those blessings that a kind 
Providence has vouchsafed me. I am aware that my 
conduct to your father and mother, while in my sin- 
ful and unregenerate state, is no warrantee for my 
present promise; but my legal adviser, Col. Star 



TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. 53 

bottle, who is empowered to treat with you, will 
assure you of the sincerity of my intention, and my 
legal ability to perform it. He will conduct you to 
ttiy house ; you will share its roof with me and my 
prodigal son Alexander, now by the grace of God 
restored, and mindful of the error of his ways. I 
enclose a draft for one thousand dollars : if you 
require more, draw upon me for the same. 
Your cousin, 

Alexander Morton, Sen. 

My mother's cousin — so ! Cousin Alexander ! a 
rich man, and re-united to the son he drove into 
shameful exile. Well ! we will see this confidential 
lawyer; and until then — until then — why, we are 
the schoolmistress of Red Gulch, and responsible for 
its youthful prodigals. [Going to schoolhouse door."] 

Miss Mary [stopping to examine flowers']. Poor, poor 
Sandy! Another offering, and, as he fondly believes, 
unknown and anonymous ! As if he were not visible 
in every petal and leaf! The mariposa blossom of 
the plain. The snow-flower I longed for, from those 
cool snow-drifts beyond the ridge. And I really be- 
lieve he was sober when he arranged them. Poor 
fellow! I begin to think that the dissipated portion 
of this community are the most interesting. Ah! 
some one behind the rock, — Sandy, I'll wager. No! 
a stranger! 

Col. Starbottle [aside, and advancing]. If I could 
make her think I left those flowers! [Aloud.] 
When I state that — er — I am perhaps — er — 
Stranger — 



54 TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. 

Miss Mary [interrupting him coldly']. You explain 
Bir, your appearance on a spot which the rude courtesy 
of even this rude miner's camp has preserved from 
intrusion. 

Starbottle [slightly abashed, but recovering himself~\. 
Yes — Ged ! — that is, I — er — saw you admiring — 
er — tribute — er — humble tribute of flowers. I am 
myself passionately devoted to flowers. Ged! I've 
spent hours — in — er — bending over the — er — 
graceful sunflower, in — er — plucking the timid 
violet from the overhanging but reluctant bough, in 
collecting the — er — er — fauna — I mean the — er 
—flora — of this — er — district. 

Miss Mary [who has been regarding him intently]. 
Permit me to leave you in uninterrupted admiration 
of them. [Handing him flowers.] You will have 
ample time in your journey down the gulch to indulge 
your curiosity ! 

Hands Starbottle flowers, enters schoolhouse, and 
quietly closes door on Starbottle as Sandy Mor- 
ton enters cautiously and sheepishly from left. San- 
dy stops in astonishment on observing Starbottle, 
and remains by iving left. 

Starbottle [smelling flowers, and not noticing Mise 
Mar y's absence]. Beautiful — er — exquisite. [Look' 
ing up at closed door.] Ged! Most extraordinary 
disappearance! [Looks around, and discovers Sandy • 
examines him for a moment through his eyeglass, ami 
then, after a pause, inflates his chest, turns his back or 
Sandy, and advances to schoolhouse-door. Sandy 
comes quickly, and, as Starbottle raises his cane to rap or 



TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. 55 

door, seizes his arm. Both men, regarding each othet 
fixedly, holding each other, retreat slowly and cautiously 
to centre. Then St arbottle disengages his arm.'} 

Sandy [embarrassedly but determinedly]. Look yer, 
stranger. By the rules of this camp, this place is 
sacred to the schoolma'am and her children. 

Starbottle [with lofty severity]. It is! Then — er — 
permit me to ask, sir, what you are doing here. 

Sandy [embarrassed, and dropping his head in confu- 
sion], I was — passing. There is no school to-day. 

Starbottle. Then, sir, Ged! permit me to — er — 
demand — demand, sir — an apology. You have laid, 
sir, your hand upon my person — demn me ! Not 
the first time, sir, either ; for, if I am not mistaken, 
you are the — >er — inebriated menial, sir, who two 
months ago jostled me, sir, — demn me, — as I entered 
the rancho of my friend Don Jose Castro. 

Sandy [starting, aside], Don Jose ! [Aloud.] Hush, 
hush! She will hear you. No — that is — [stops, 
confused and embarrassed. Aside.] She will hear of 
my disgrace. He will tell her the whole story. 

Starbottle. I shall await your apology one hour. 
At the end of that time, if it is not forthcoming, I 
shall — er — er — waive your menial antecedents, and 
expect the — er — satisfaction of a gentleman. Good- 
morning, sir. [Turns to schoolhouse.] 

Sandy. No, no : you shall not go ! 

Starbottle. Who will prevent me ? 

Sandy [grappling him.] I will. [Appealingly. - ] 
Look yer, stranger, don't provoke me, I, a desperate 
tnan, desperate and crazed with drink, — don't ye. 



56 TWO MEN OF SAND? BAR. 

don't ye do it ! For God's sake, take your hands off 
me! Ye don't know what ye do. Ah! [Wildly, hold* 
ing Starbottle firmly, and forcing him backward to 
•precipice beyond ledge of rocks."] Hear me. Three 
years ago, in a moment like this, I dragged a man — 
my friend — to this precipice. I — I — no! no! — 
don't anger me now! [Sandy's grip on Starbottle 
relaxes slightly, and his head droops.] 

Starbottle [coolly]. Permit me to remark, sir, that 
any reminiscence of your — er — friend — or any 
other man is — er — at this moment, irrelevant and 
impertinent. Permit me to point out the — er — fact, 
sir, that your hand is pressing heavily, demned 
heavily, on my shoulder. 

Sandy [fiercely]. You shall not go ! 

Starbottle [fiercely]. Shall not? 

Struggle. Starbottle draws derringer from his breast- 
pocket, and Sandy seizes his arm. In this position 
both parties struggle to ledge of rocks, and Col. Star- 
bottle is forced partly over. 

Miss Mary [opening schoolhouse-door], I thought I 
heard voices. [Looking toward ledge of rocks, where 
Col. Starbottle and Sandy are partly hidden by 
trees. Both men relax grasp of each other at Miss 
Mary's voice.] 

Col. Starbottle [aloud and with voice slightly raised, tc 
Sandy]. By — er — leaning over this way a moment, 
a single moment, you will — er — perceive the trail 
I speak of. It follows the canon to the right. It wilJ 
bring you to — er — the settlement in an hour. [7 T 



TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. 57 

Miss Mary, as if observing her for the first time.} 1 
believe I am — er — right ; but, being — er — more 
familiar with the locality, you can direct the gentle- 
man better. 

Sandy slowly sinks on his knees beside rock, with his face 
averted from schoolhouse, as Col. Starbottle disen- 
gages himself and advances jauntily and gallantly to 
schoolhouse. 

Col. Starbottle. In — er — er — showing the stranger 
the — er — way, I perhaps interrupted our interview. 
The — er — observances of — er — civility and hu- 
manity must not be foregone, even for — er — the 
ladies. I — er — believe I address Miss Mary Morris. 
When I — er — state that my name is Col. Starbottle, 
charged on mission of — er — delicate nature, I believe 
I — er — explain my intrusion. 

Miss Mary bows, and motions to schoolhouse- door ; Col. 
Starbottle, bowing deeply, enters ; but Miss Mary 
remains standing by door, looking toward trees that hide 
Sandy. 

Miss Mary \aside~\. I am sure it was Sandy's 
voice! But why does he conceal himself? 

Sandy [aside, rising slowly to his feet, with his back to 
schoolhouse-door']. Even this conceited bully over- 
comes me, and shames me with his readiness and tact. 
He was quick to spare her — a stranger — the specta- 
cle of two angry men. I — I — must needs wrangle 
before her very door ! Well , well ! better out of her 
sight forever, than an object of pity or terror. [Exk 
ilowly, and with downcast eyes, right. ] 



DO TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. 

Miss Mary [watching the trail]. It was Sandy! and 
this concealment means something more than bashful- 
ness. Perhaps the stranger can explain. [Enters 
schoolhouse, and closes door.] 

Scene 2. — The same. Enter Concho, lame, cautious- 
tyi from R. Pauses at R., and then beckons to Hop 
Sing, who follows r. 

Concho [impatiently]. Well! you saw him? 

Hop Sing. Me see him. 

Concho. And you recognized him ? 

Hop Sing. No shabe likoquize. 

Concho [furiously"]. You knew him, eh? Carrambal 
You knew him. 

Hop Sing [slowly and sententiously]. Me shabe man 
you callee Diego. Me shabbee Led Gulchee call 
Sandy. Me shabbee man Poker Flat callee Alexandlee 
Molton. Allee same, John ! Allee same ! 

Concho [rubbing his hands]. Buenol Good John ! 
good John ! And you knew he was called Alexander 
Morton? And go on — good John — go on ! 

Hop Sing. Me plentee washee shirtee — Melican 
man Poker Flat. Me plentee washee shirt Alexandlee 
Molton. Always litee, litee on shirt allee time. 
[Pointing to tail of his blouse, and imitating writing with 
finger.] Alexandlee Molton. Melican man tellee me 
— shirt say Alexandlee Molton — shabbee ? 

Concho. Buenol Excellent John. Good John. 
His linen marked Alexander Morton. The proofs are 
gathering! [crosses to c] — the letter I found in hi? 



TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. 59 

pack, addressed to Alexander Morton, Poker Flat, 
which first put me on his track ; the story of his 
wife's infidelity, and her flight with his partner to 
Red Gulch, the quarrel and fight that separated them, 
his flight to San Jose, his wanderings to the mission 
of San Carmel, to the rancho of the Holy Fisher- 
man. The record is complete! 

Hop Sing. Alexandlee Molton — 

Conclio [hurriedly returning to Hop Sing]. Yes! 
good John; yes, good John — go on. Alexander 
Morton — 

Hop Sing. Alexandlee Molton. Me washee shirt, 
Alexandlee Molton; he no pay washee. Me washee 
flowty dozen hep — four bittie dozen — twenty dollar 
hep. Alexandlee Molton no payee. He say, " Go to 
hellee! " You pay me {extending his hand']. 

Concho. Car — ! [checking himself.] Poco tiempo, 
John! In good time, John. Forty dollar — yes. 
Fifty dollar! To-morrow, John. 

Hop Sing. Me no likee ' ' to-mollow ! ' ' Me no 
likee " nex time, John!" Allee time Melican man 
say, " Chalkee up, John," "No smallee change, 
John," — umph. Plenty foolee me! 

Concho. You shall have your money, John; but go 
now — you comprehend. Carramba ! go ! [Pushes 
Hop Sing to wing.] 

Hop Sing [expostulating]. Flowty dozen, hep, John! 
fcwenty dollar, John. Sabe. Flow T ty — twenty — 
gesticulating with fingers.] 

[Exit Hop Sing, pushed off by Concho. 

Concho. The pagan dolt! But he is important. 



60 TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. 

Ah, if he were wiser, I should not rid myself of him 
bo quickly! Aud now for the schoolmistress, — the 
Bweetheart of Sandy. If these men have not lied, he 
15 in love with her; and, if he is, he has told her his 
secret before now; and she will be swift to urge him 
to his rights. If he has not told her — ump;.! 
[laughing'] it will not be a dag — an hour — before 
she will find out if her lover is Alexander Morton, 
the rich man's son, or " Sandy," the unknown vaga- 
bond. Eh, friend Sandy! It was a woman that 
locked up your secret: it shall be a woman, Madre 
di Dios ! who shall unlock it. Ha! [Goes to door of 
schoolhouse as door opens, and appears Col. Star- 
bottle.] 

Concho [aside]. A thousand devils ! the lawyer 
of the old man Morton. [Aloud.] Pardon, pardon! 
I am a stranger. I have lost my way on the moun- 
tain. I am seeking a trail. Senor, pardon ! 

Starbottle [aside]. Another man seeking the road ! 
Ged, I believe he's lying too. [Aloud.] It is before 
you, sir, down, — down the mountain. 

Concho. A thousand thanks, senor. [Aside.] Per- 
dition catch him ! [Aloud.] Thanks, senor. [Exit's. 

Starbottle. Ged, I've seen that face before. Ged, 
it's Castro's major-domo. Demn me, but I believe al 
his domestics have fallen in love with the pretty school- 
ma'am. 

Enter Miss MAEY/rom schoolhouse. 

Miss Mary [slowly refolding letter]. You are aware, 
then, of the contents of this note ; and you are th« 
friend of Alexander Morton, sen. ? 



TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. 61 

Col. Starbottle. Permit me a moment, a single 
moment, to — er — er — explain. I am Mr. Morton's 
legal adviser. There is — er — sense of — er — respon- 
sibility, — er — personal responsibility, about the term 
"friend," that at the — er — er — present moment I 
am not — er — prepared to assume. The substance 
of the letter is before you. I am here to — er — ex- 
press its spirit. I am here [with great gallantry} to 
express the — er — yearnings of cousinly affection. 1 
am aware — er — that our conduct, — if I may use the 

— er — the plural of advocacy, — I am aware that — 
er — our conduct has not in the past years been of — 
er — er — exemplary character. I am aware that the 
• — er — death of our lamented cousin, your sainted 
mother, was — er — hastened — I may — er — say — 
pre — cip — itated — by our — er — indiscretion. But 
we are here to — er — confess judgment — with — er 

— er — costs. 

Miss Mary [interrupting]. In other words, your 
client my cousin, having ruined my father, having 
turned his own widowed relation out of doors, and 
sent me, her daughter, among strangers to earn her 
bread ; having seen my mother sink and die in her 
struggle to keep her family from want, — this man 
now seeks to condone his offences — pardon me, sir, 
if I use your own legal phraseology — by offering 
me a home ; by giving me part of his ill-gotten 
wealth, the association of his own hypocritical self. 
and the company of his shameless, profligate son — 

Starbottle [interrupting']. A moment, Miss Morris, — 
X single moment! The epithets you have used, the 



62 TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. 

— er — vigorous characterization of our — er — con- 
duct, is — er — within the — er — strict rules of legal 
advocacy, correct. We are — er — rascals! we are — 
er — scoundrels! we are — er — well, I am not — 
er — prepared to say that we are not — er — demn 
me — hypocrites ! But the young man you speak of — 
our son, whose past life (speaking as Col. Starbottle) 
no one more sincerely deprecates than myself, — that 
young man has reformed ; has been for the past few 
months a miracle of sobriety, decorum, and industry ; 
has taken, thanks to the example of — er — friends, a 
position of integrity in his father's business, of filial 
obedience in his father's household; is, in short, a 
paragon ; and, demn me, I doubt if he's his father's 
son. 

Miss Mary. Enough, sir! You are waiting for my 
answer. There is no reason why it should not be as 
precise, as brief, and as formal as your message. Go 
to my cousin ; say that you saw the person he claims 
as his relation; say that you found her, a poor school- 
mistress, in a rude mining-camp, dependent for her 
bread on the scant earnings of already impoverished 
men, dependent for her honor on the rude chivalry of 
outcasts and vagabonds ; and say that then and there 
she repudiated your kinship, and respectfully declined 
your invitation. 

Starbottle [aside]. Ged! Star! this is the — er— » 
female of your species! This is the woman — the 

— er — one woman — for whom you are responsible 
sir ! — personally responsible ! 

Miss Mary [coldly]. You have my answer, sir. 



TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. 63 

Col. Starbottle. Permit me — er — ■ single moment, 

— a single moment ! Between the — er — present 
moment, and that of my departure — there is an — er 
■ — interval of twelve hours. May I, at the close of 
that interval — again present myself — without preju- 
dice, for your final answer? 

Miss Mary [indifferently]. As you will, sir. I shall 
be here. 

Col. Starbottle. Permit me. [Takes Tier hand gallant- 
ly.'] Your conduct and manner, Miss Morris, remind 
me — er — singularly — of — er — beautiful creature 

— one of the — er — first families. [Observing Miss 
Mary regarding him amusedly, becomes embarrassed.] 
That is — er — I mean — er — er — good morning, 
Miss Morris! [Passes by schoolhouse door retreating 
and bowing, and picks up flowers from door-step.] 
Good morning! 

Miss Mary. Excuse me, Col. Starbottle [with win- 
ning politeness], but I fear I must rob you of those 
flowers. I recognize them now as the offering of 
one of my pupils. I fear I must revoke my gift 
[taking flowers from astonished coloneVs hand], all ex- 
cept a single one for your buttonhole. Have you any 
choice, or shall I [archly] choose for you? Then it 
shall be this. [Begins to place flowers in buttonhole, 
Col. Starbottle exhibiting extravagant gratitude in 
dumb show. Business prolonged through Miss Mary's 
speech.] If I am not wrong, colonel, the gentleman 
to whom you so kindly pointed out the road this 
morning was not a stranger to you. Ah! I am right. 
There, — one moment, — a sprig of green, a single 



64 TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. 

leaf, would set off the pink nicely. Here he is known 
only as "Sandy:" you know the absurd habits oi 
this camp. Of course he has another name. There' 
[releasing the colonel'] it is much prettier now. 

Col. Starbottle. Ged, madam! The rarest exotic —- 
the Victoria Regina — is not as — er — graceful — er 
— tribute ! 

Miss Mary. And yet you refuse to satisfy my 
curiosity? 

Col. Starbottle [with great embarrassment, which at last 
resolves itself into increased dignity of manner]. What 
you ask is — er — er — impossible ! You are right : 
the — er — gentleman you allude to is known to me 
under — er — er — another name. But honor — Miss 
Morris, honor ! — seals the lips of Col. Starbottle. 
[Aside.] If she should know he was a menial! No. 
The position of the man you have challenged, Star, 
must be equal to your own. [Aloud.] Any thing, 
Miss Morris, but — er — that ! 

Miss Mary [smiling]. Be it so. Adios, Col. Star- 
bottle. 

Col. Starbottle [gallantly]. An revoir, Miss Morris. 

[Exit, impressively, left. 

Miss Mary. So! Sandy conceals another name, 
which he withholds from Red Gulch. Well! Pshaw! 
What is that to me ? The camp is made up of refu- 
gees, — men who perhaps have good reason to hide a 
name that may be infamous, the name that would 
publish a crime. Nonsense! Crime and Sandy! No 
shame and guilt do not hide themselves in thosf 
honest but occasionally somewhat bloodshot eyes 



TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. 65 

Besides, goodness knows! the poor fellow's weakness 
is palpable enough, No, that is not the reason. It is 
no guilt that keeps his name hidden, — at least, not 
his. [Seating herself, and arranging flowers in her lap.'] 
Poor Sandy! he must have climbed the eastern sum- 
mit to get this. See, the rosy sunrise still lingers in 
its very petals ; the dew is fresh upon it. Dear little 
mountain baby! I really believe that fellow got up 
before daylight, to climb that giddy height and secure 
its virgin freshness. And to think, in a moment of 
spite, I'd have given it to that bombastic warrior! 
[Pause.'] That was a fine offer you refused just now, 
Miss Mary. Think of it : a home of luxury, a posi- 
tion of assured respect and homage; the life I once 
led, with all its difficulties smoothed away, its uncer- 
tainty dispelled, — think of it! My poor mother's 
dream fulfilled, — I, her daughter, the mistress of. 
affluence, the queen of social power! What a temp- 
tation! Ah, Miss Mary, was it a temptation? Was 
there nothing in your free life here that stiffened your 
courage, that steeled the adamant of your refusal? 
or was it only the memory of your mother's wrongs ? 
Luxury and wealth ! Could you command a dwelling 
more charming than this ? Position and respect ! Is 
not the awful admiration of these lawless men more 
fascinating than the perilous flattery of gentlemen 
like Col. Starbottle ? is not the devotion of these 
outcasts more complimentary than the lip-service of 
perfumed gallantry? [Pause.] It's very odd he 
doesn't come. I wonder if that conceited old fool 
said any thing to him [Rises, and then seats herself 



66 TWO MEH OF RAHDY BAE. 

smiling.] He faz* come. He is dodging in and out of 
the raanganita bushes below the spring. I suppose 
he imagines rny visitor still here. The bashful fool! 
If anybody should see him. it would be enough to 
make a petty scandal! I'll give him a talking-to. 
[Pait.se.] I wonder if the ridiculous fool ha3 gone 
to sleep in those bushes. [Rises.] Well, let him: it 
will help him to recover his senses from last night's 
dissipation; and you, Miss Mary, it is high time you 
were preparing the lessons for to-morrow. {Goes to 
schoolhouse, enters door, and slams it behind her ; after 
a moment re-appears with empty bucket.] Of course 
there's no water, and I am dying of thirst. {Goes 
slowly to left, and pauses embarrassedly and bashfully, 
presently laughs, — then suddenly frowns, and assumes an 
appearance of indignation.'] Mis3 Mary Morris, have 
you become such an egregious fool that you dare not 
satisfy the ordinary cravings of human nature, ju3t 
because an idle, dissipated, bashful blockhead — 
nonsense! [Exit, brandishing pail. 

Scehe 3. — The Same. 

[A pause. Saxdy's voice, without.'] This way, miss : 
the trail is easier. 

[Miss Mary's voice, without.] Xever mind me 
look after the bucket. 

Enter Sasdy, carrying bucket with water, followed 5j 
Miss Mary. Saxdy sets bucket down. 

Miss Mary. There, you're spilt half of it. If i* 
had been whiskey, you'd have been more careful. 



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book I H~ h noi 39 staged 

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68 TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. 

you see, I am more trustful than you. I will tell you 
my secret ; and you shall aid me with your counsel. 
[They sit on ledge of roclcs.~] Listen ! My mother 
had a cousin once, — a cousin cruel, cowardly, selfish, 
and dissolute. She loved him, as women are apt to 
love such men, — loved him so that she beguiled her 
own husband to trust his fortunes in the hands of this 
wretched profligate. The husband was ruined, dis- 
graced. The wife sought her cousin for help for her 
necessities. He met her with insult, and proposed 
that she should fly with him. 

Sandy. One moment, miss : it wasn't his pardner, 
— his pardner's wife — eh ? 

Miss Mary [impatiently'}. It was the helpless wife 
of his own blood, I tell you. The husband died bro- 
ken-hearted. The wife, my mother, struggled in pov- 
erty, under the shadow of a proud name, to give me 
an education, and died while I was still a girl. To- 
day this cousin, — this more than murderer of my 
parents, — old, rich, self-satisfied, informed, invites me, 
by virtue of that kinship he violated and despised, to 
his home, his wealth, his — his family roof-tree! 
The man you saw was his agent. 

Sandy. And you — 

Miss Mary. Refused. 

Sandy [passing his hand over his forehead}. You did 
wrong, Miss Mary. 

Miss Mary. Wrong, sir? [Rising."] 

Sandy [humbly hut firmly]. Sit ye down, Miss 
Mary. It ain't for ye to throw your bright young life 
away yer in this place. It ain't for such as ye to soi 



TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. 65 

your fair young hands by raking in the ashes to stir 
up the dead embers of a family wrong. It ain't for 
ye — ye'll pardon me, Miss Mary, for sayin' it — it 
ain't for ye to allow when it's too late fur a man to 
reform, or to go back of his reformation. Don't ye 
do it, miss, fur God's sake, — don't ye do it! Hark- 
in, Miss Mary. If ye'll take my advice — a fool's 
advice, maybe — ye'll go. And when I tell ye that 
that advice, if ye take it, will take the sunshine out 
of these hills, the color off them trees, the freshness 
outer them flowers, the heart's blood outer me, — 
ye'll know that I ain't thinkin' o' myself, but of 
ye. And I wouldn't say this much to ye, Miss Mary, 
but you're goin' away. There's a flower, miss, you're 
wearin' in your bosom, — a flower I picked at day- 
break this morning, five miles away in the snow. 
The wind was blowing chill around it, so that my 
hands that dug for it were stiff and cold; but the 
roots were warm, Miss Mary, as they are now in your 
bosom. Ye'll keep that flower, Miss Mary, in remem- 
brance of my love for ye, that kept warm and blos- 
somed through the snow. And, don't start, Miss 
Mary, — for ye'll leave behind ye, as I did, the snow 
and rocks through which it bloomed. I axes your 
parding, miss: I'm hurtin' yer feelin's, sure. 

Miss Mary [rising with agitation]. Nothing, — noth- 
ing; but climbing these stupid rocks has made me 
giddy: that's all. Your arm. [To Sandy impa- 
tiently.] Can't you give me your arm? [Sandy 
supports Miss Mary iwhwardly toward schooUwuse. At 
door Miss Mary pauses.] But if this reformation i§ 



70 TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. 

bo easy, so acceptable, why have you not profited by 
it? Why have you not reformed? Why have I 
found you here, a disgraced, dissipated, anonymous 
outcast, whom an honest girl dare not know? Why 
do you presume to preach to me ? Have you a fa- 
ther? 

Sandy. Hush, Miss Mary, hush ! I had a father. 
Harkin. All that you have suffered from a kinship 
even so far removed, I have known from the hands of 
one who should have protected me. My father was 
— but no matter. You, Miss Mary, came out of your 
trials like gold from the washing. I was only the 
dirt and gravel to be thrown away. It is too late, 
Miss Mary, too late. My father has never sought me, 
would turn me from his doors had I sought him. 
Perhaps he is only right. 

Miss Mary. But why should he be so different 
from others ? Listen. This very cousin whose offer I 
refused had a son, — wild, wayward, by all report 
the most degraded of men. It was part of my 
cousin's reformation to save this son, and, if it were 
possible, snatch him from that terrible fate which 
seemed to be his only inheritance. 

Sandy \eagerly~]. Yes, miss. 

Miss Mary. To restore him to a regenerated home. 
With this idea he followed his prodigal to California 
I, you understand, was only an after-thought conse 
quent upon his success. He came to California upon 
this pilgrimage two years ago. He had no recollec- 
tion, so they tell me, by which he could recognize this 
erring son; and at first his search was wild, profitless 



TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. 71 

and almost hopeless. But by degrees, and with a 
persistency that seemed to increase with his hopeless- 
ness, he was rewarded by finding some clew to him at 
— at — at — 

Sandy [excitedly]. At Poker Flat? 

Miss Mary. Ah, perhaps you know the story, — 
at Poker Flat. He traced him to the Mission of San 
Carmel. 

Sandy. Yes, miss: go on. 

Miss Mary. He was more successful than he de- 
served, perhaps. He found him. I see you know the 
story. 

Sandy. Found him! Found him! Miss, did you 
say found him ? 

Miss Mary. Yes, found him. And to-day Alex- 
ander Morton, the reclaimed prodigal, is part of the 
household I am invited to join. So you see, Mr. 
Sandy, there is still hope-. What has happened to 
him is only a promise to you. Eh! Mr. Sandy — 
what is the matter? Are you ill? Your exertion 
this morning, perhaps. Speak to me ! Gracious 
heavens, he is going mad ! No ! No ! Yes — it 
?annot be — it is — he has broken his promise : he is 
irunk again. 

Sandy [rising, excited and confused']. Excuse me, 
miss, I am a little onsartain here [pointing to his head]. 
I can't — I disremember — what you said jus' now: 
ye mentioned the name o 5 that prodigal that waa 
found. 

Miss Mary. Certainly: compose yourself, — my 
cousin's son, Alexander Morton. Listen, Sandy 



72 TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. 

you promised me, you know, you said for my sake 
you would not touch a drop. [Enter cautiously toward 
scJwolhouse the Duchess, stops on observing Sandy, ana 
aides behind rock.'] 

Sandy [still bewildered and incoherent], I reckon. 
Harkin, miss, is that thar thing [pointing towards rock 
where Duchess is concealed] — is that a tree, or — or 
— a woman ? Is it sorter movin' this way ? 

Miss Mary [laying her hand on Sandy's]. Recove: 
your senses, for Heaven's sake, Sandy, — for my sake 
It is only a tree. 

Sandy [rising]. Then, miss, I've broke my word 
with ye : I'm drunk. P'r'aps I'd better be a-goin' 
[looking round confusedly] till I'm sober. [Going 
toward l.] 

Miss Mary [seizing his hand]. But you'll see me 
again, Sandy: you'll come here — before — before — 
I go? 

Sandy. Yes, miss, — before ye go. [Staggers stu- 
pidly toward L. Aside.] Found him ! found Alex- 
ander Morton ! It's a third time, Sandy, the third 
time: it means — it means — you're mad! [Laughs 
wildly, and exit l.] 

Miss Mary [springing to her feet]. There is a mys- 
tery behind all this, Mary Morris, that you — you 
— must discover. That man was not drunk: he had 
not broken his promise to me. What does it all 
mean? I have it. I will accept the offer of this 
Alexander Morton. I will tell him the story of this 
helpless man, this poor, poor, reckless Sandy. With 
the story of his own son before his eyes, he cannot 



TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. 7$ 

Dut interest himself in his fate. He is rich : he will 
aid me in my search for Sandy's father, for Sandy's 
secret. At the worst, I can only follow the advice 
of this wretched man, — an advice so generous, so 
kind, so self-sacrificing. Ah — 



Scene 4. — The same. Enter the Duchess, showily 
and extravagantly dressed. Her manner at first is a 
mixture of alternate shyness and bravado. 

The Duchess. I heerd tell that you was goin' down 
to 'Frisco to-morrow, for your vacation ; and I 
couldn't let ye go till I came to thank ye for jour 
kindness to my boy, — little Tommy. 

Miss Mary [aside. Rising abstractedly, and recalling 
herself with an effort.'] I see, — a poor outcast, the 
mother of my anonymous pupil. [Aloud.'] Tommy! 
a good boy, — a dear, good little boy. 

Duchess. Thankee, miss, thankee. If I am his 
mother, thar ain't a sweeter, dearer, better boy lives 
than him. And, if I ain't much as says it, thar ain't 
a sweeter, dearer, angeler teacher than he's got. It 
ain't for you to be complimented by me, miss ; it 
ain't for such as me to be comin' here in broad day to 
do it, neither; but I come to ask a favor, —not for 
me, miss, but for the darling boy. 

Miss Mary [aside — abstractedly]. This poor, de- 
graded creature will kill me with her wearying grati- 
tude. Sandy will not return, of course, while she ia 
here. [Aloud.] Go on. If I can help you or yours 
be assured I will. 



74 TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. 

The Duchess. Thankee, miss. You see, thar's no 
one the boy has any claim on but me, and I ain't the 
proper person to bring him up. I did allow to send 
him to 'Frisco, last year; but when I heerd talk that 
a schoolma'am was comin' up, and you did, and he 
sorter tuk to ye natril from the first, I guess I did 
well to keep him yer. For, oh, miss, he loves ye so 
much ; and, if you could hear him talk in his purty 
way, ye wouldn't refuse him any thing. 

Miss Mary [with fatigued politeness, and increasing 
impatience.'] I see, I see: pray go on. 

The Duchess [with quiet persistency']. It's natril he 
should take to ye, miss; for his father, when I first 
knowed him, miss, was a gentleman like yourself; 
and the boy must forget me sooner or later — and I 
ain't goin' to cry about that. 

Miss Mary [impatiently]. Pray tell me how I can 
serve you. 

The Duchess. Yes, miss ; you see, I came to ask 
you to take my Tommy, — God bless him for the 
sweetest, bestest boy that lives ! — to take him with 
you. I've money plenty ; and it's all yours and his. 
Put him in some good school, whar ye kin go and 
see, and sorter help him to — forget — his mother. 
Do with him what you like. The worst you can do 
will be kindness to what he would learn with me. 
You will : 1 know you will ; won't you ? You will 
make him as pure and as good as yourself ; and when 
he has grown up, and is a gentleman, you will tell 
Mm his father's name, — the name that hasn't passed 
my lips for years, — the name of Alexander Morton. 



TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. 75 

Miss Mary [aside]. Alexander Morton ! The prod- 
igal ! Ah, I see, — the ungathered husks of his idle 
harvest. 

The Duchess. You hesitate, Miss Mary. [Seizing 
her.] Do not take your hand away. You are smil- 
ing. God bless you! I know you will take my boy. 
Speak to me, Miss Mary. 

Miss Mary [aloud], I will take your child. More 
than that, I will take him to his father. 

The Duchess. No, no! for God's sake, no, Miss 
Mary! He has never seen him from his birth: he 
does not know him. He will disown him. He will 
curse him, — will curse me ! 

Miss Mary. Why should he ? Surely his crime is 
worse than yours. 

The Duchess. Hear me, Miss Mary. [Aside.] How 
can I tell her? [Aloud.] One moment, miss. I 
was once — ye may not believe it, miss — as good, as 
pure, as you. I had a husband, the father of this 
child. He was kind, good, easy, forgiving, — too 
good for me, miss, too simple and unsuspecting. He 
was what the world calls a fool, miss : he loved me 
too well, — the kind o' crime, miss, — beggin' your 
pardon, and all precepts to the coutrairy, — the one 
thing that women like me never forgives. He had a 
pardner, miss, that governed him as he never gov- 
erned me ; that held him with the stronger will, and 
maybe me too. I was young, miss, — no older than 
yourself then; and I ran away with him, — left all, 
and ran away with my husband's pardner. My hus- 
band — nat'rally — took to drink. I axes your par- 



76 TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. 

din', miss ; but ye'll see now, allowin' your larnin', 
that Alexander Morton ain't the man as will take mv 
child. 

Miss Mary. Nonsense. You are wrong. He has 
reformed; he has been restored to his home, — youi 
child's home, your home if you will but claim it. 
Do not fear : I will make that right. 
Enter Sandy slowly and sheepishly, r. ; stops on ok 

serving the Duchess, and stands amazed and motion* 

less. 

Miss Mary [observing Sandy — aside]. He has 
returned. Poor fellow ! How shall I get rid of this 
woman ? [Aloud.] Enough. If you are sincere, I 
will take your child, and, God help me ! bring him to 
his home and yours. Are you satisfied ? 

The Duchess. Thank ye ! Thank ye, miss ; but — 
but thar's a mistake somewhar. In course — it's nat- 
ural — ye don't know the father of that child, my boy 
Tommy, under the name o' Alexander Morton. Ye're 
thinking, like as not, of another man. The man I 
mean lives yer, in this camp: they calls him Sandy, 
miss, — Sandy I 

Miss Alary [after a pause, coming forward passion' 
utely~\. Hush! I have given you my answer, be it 
Alexander Morton or Sandy. Go now : bring me the 
child this evening at my house. I will meet you 
there. [Leads the Duchess to wing. The Duchess 
indeavors to fall at her feet.] 

Duchess. God bless you, miss! 

Miss Mary [hurriedly embracing her.] No more, nft 
more — but go ! [Exit Duchess. Miss Mary return* 
hurriedly to centre, confronting Sandy.] 



TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. Ti 

Miss Mary [to Sandy, hurriedly and excitedly.'] You 
have heard what that woman said. I do not ask you 
under what alias you are known here : I only ask a 
single question, — Is she your wife? are you the father 
of her child ? 

Sandy [sinking upon his knees before her, and covering 
his face with his hands']. I am ! 

Miss Mary. Enough ! [Taking flower from her 
bosom.] Here, I give you back the flower you gave me 
this morning. It has faded and died here upon my 
breast. But I shall replace it with your foundling, — 
the child of that woman, born like that flower in the 
snow ! And I go now, Sandy, and leave behind me, 
as you said this morning, the snow and rocks in which 
it bloomed. Good- by ! Farewell, farewell — forever I 
[Goes toward schoolhouse as — 

Enter Col. Starbottle. 

Miss Mary [to Starbottle.] You are here in 
season, sir. You must have come for an answer to 
your question. You must first give me one to mine. 
Who is this man [pointing to Sandy], the man you 
met upon the rocks this morning? 

Col. Starbottle. Ahem ! I am — er — now fully pre- 
pared and responsible, I may say, miss — er — person- 
ally responsible, to answer that question. When you 
asked it this morning, the ordinary courtesy of the — 
er — code of honor threw a — er— cloak arcund the — 
er — antecedents of the — er — man whom I had — - er 
— elected by a demand for personal satisfaction, to the 
equality of myself, an — er — gentleman ! That — er 



78 TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. 

— cloak is now removed. I have waited six hours fof 
an apology or a — er — reply to my demand. I am 
now free to confess that the — er — person you allude 
to was first known by me, three months ago, as an 
inebriated menial, — a groom in the household of my 
friend Don Jose Castro, — by the — er — simple name 
of "Diego." 

Miss Mary [slowly]. I am satisfied. I accept my 
cousin's invitation. 

[Exit slowly, supported by Col. Starbottle, r. 

As Starbottle and Miss Mary exeunt r., Concho 
and Hop Sing enter cautiously, l. Sandy slowly 
rises to his feet, passes his hand across his forehead, 
looks around toward exit of Starbottle and Miss 
Mary. 

Sandy [slowly, but with more calmness of demeanor]. 
Gone, gone — forever ! No: I am not mad, nor 
crazed with drink. My hands no longer tremble. 
There is no confusion here. [Feeling his forehead. ] I 
heard them all. It was no dream. I heard her every 
word. Alexander Morton, yes, they spoke of Alex- 
ander Morton. She is going to him, to my father. 
She is going — she, Mary, my cousin — she is going 
to my father. He has been seeking me — has f ouna 

— ah! [Groans.] No, no, Sandy! Be patient, be 
calm: you are not crazy — no, no, good Sandy, 
good old boy! Be patient, be patient: it is coming, 
it is coming. Yes, I see: some one has leaped intc 
my place; some one has leaped into the old man'a 
arms. Some one will creep into her heart! No! by 



TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. 79 

Crod! No! I am Alexander Morton. Yes, yes! But 
how, how shall I prove it? — how? Who [Concho 
steps cautiously forward towards Sandy unobserved] 
will believe the vagabond, the outcast — my God! — 
the crazy drunkard? 

Concho [advancing, and laying his hand on Sandy]. 
I will! 

Sandy [staggering back amazedly]. You! 

Concho. Yes, — I, I, — Concho! You know me, 
Diego, you know me, — Concho, the major-domo of 
the Blessed Innocents. Ha! You know me now. 
Yes, I have come to save you. I have come to make 
you strong. So — I have come to help you strip the 
Judas that has stepped into your place, — the sham 
prodigal that has had the fatted calf and the ring, — 
ah! ah! 

Sandy. You ? You do not know me ! 

Concho. Ah ! you think, you think, eh? Listen: 
Since you left I have tracked him — the impostor, this 
Judas, this coyote — step by step, until his tracks 
crossed yours; and then I sought you out. I know 
all. I found a letter you had dropped; that brought 
me to Poker Flat. Ah, you start! I have seen those 
who knew you as Alexander Morton. You see! Ah, 
I am wise. 

Sandy [aside"]- It is true. [Aloud.] But [suspi- 
ciously] why have you done this? You, Concho? — 
you were not my friend. 

Concho. No, but he is my enemy. Ah, you start! 
Look at me, Alexander Morton, Sandy, Diego ! You 
knew a man, strong, active, like yourself. Eh! Look 



80 • TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. 

at me now! Look at me, a cripple! Eh! lame and 
crushed here [pointing to his leg], broken and crushed 
here [pointing to his heart], by him, — the impostor! 
Listen, Diego. The night I was sent to track you 
from the rancho, he — this man — struck me from the 
wall, dashed me to the earth, and made my body, 
broken and bruised, a stepping-stone to leap the wall 
into your place, Diego, — into your father's heart, — 
into my master's home. They found me dead, they 
thought, — no, not dead, Diego! It was sad, they 
said, — unfortunate. They nursed me; they talked 
of money — eh, Diego! — money! They would have 
pensioned me to hush scandal — eh ! I was a dog, a 
foreigner, a Greaser! Eh! That is why I am here. 
No! I love you not, Diego; you are of his race; but I 
hate — Mother of God ! — I hate him ! 

Sandy [rising to his feet, aside]. Good! I begin to 
feel my courage return : my nerves are stronger. 
Courage, Sandy! [Aloud.] Be it so, Concho: there 
is my hand ! We will help each other, — you to my 
birthright, I to your revenge! Hark ye! [Sandy's 
manner becomes more calm and serious.] This impostor 
is no craven, no coyote. Whoever he is, he must be 
strong. He has most plausible evidences. We must 
have rigid proofs. I will go with you to Poker Flat. 
There is one man, if he be living, knows me better 
than any man who lives. He has done me wrong, — ■ 
a great wrong, Concho, — but I will forgive him. 1 
will do more, — I will ask his forgiveness. He wil* 
be a witness no man dare gainsay — my partner -« 
Sod help him and forgive him as I do ! — John Oak* 
hurst. 



TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. - 81 

Concho. Oakhurst your partner ! 

Sandy [angrily]. Yes. Look ye, Concho, he has 
wxonged me in a private way: that is my business, 
not yours; but he was my partner, no one shall abuse 
him before me. 

Concho. Be it so. Then sink here! Rot here! Go 
back to your husks, O prodigal! wallow in the ditches 
of this camp, and see your birthright sold for a dram 
of aguardiente! Lie here, dog and coyote that you 
are, with your mistress under the protection of your 
destroyer! For I tell you — I, Concho, the cripple — 
that the man who struck me down, the man who 
stepped into your birthright, the man who to-morrow 
welcomes your sweetheart in his arms, who holds 
the custody of your child, is your partner, — John 
Oakhurst ! 

Sandy [who has been sinking under Concho's words, 
rising convulsively to his feet]. God be merciful to me 
a sinner! [Faints.] 

Concho [standing over his prostrate body exultingly]. 
I am right. You are wise, Concho, you are wise! 
You have found Alexander Morton ! 

Hop Sing [advancing slowly to Sandy's side, and 
extending open palm]. Me washee shirt no you, flowty 
dozen hab. You no payee me. Me wantee twenty 
dollar hep. Sabe! 

[Curtain."] 
END OP ACT H. 



82 TWO MEN OF SANDY BAB. 



ACT III. 

Scene 1. — The bank parlor of Morton &f Son, Sar 
Francisco. Room richly furnished; two square library 
desks, left and right. 'At right, safe in wall ; at left, 
same with practicable doors. Folding-door in flat c, 
leading to counting-room. Door in left to private room 
of Alexander Morton, sen. ; door in right to private 
room of Morton, jun. Alexander Morton, sen., 
discovered at desk r., opening and reading letters. 

Morton, sen. [laying down letter]. Well, well, the 
usual story; letters from all sorts of people, who have 
done or intend to do all sorts of things for my reclaimed 
prodigal. [Reads.'] " Dear Sir: five years ago I loaned 
some money to a stranger who answers the description 
of your recovered son. He will remember Jim Par- 
ker, — Limping Jim, of Poker Flat. Being at present 
short of funds, please send twenty dollars, amount 
loaned, by return mail. If not convenient, five dollars 
will do as instalment. ' ' Pshaw ! [ Throws letter aside, 
and takes up another.'] "Dear Sir: I invite your atten- 
tion to enclosed circular for a proposed Home for 
Dissipated and Anonymous Gold-Miners. Your well» 
known reputation for liberality, and your late valuable 
experience in the reformation of your son, will natu- 
rally enlist your broadest sympathies. We enclose a 
draft for five thousand dollars, for your signature.' 



TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. 83 

We shall see ! Another: "Dear Sir: the Society for 
the Formation of Bible Classes in the Upper Stanis- 
laus acknowledge your recent munificent gift of five 
hundred dollars to the cause. Last sabbath Brother 
Hawkins of Poker Flat related with touching effect 
the story of your prodigal to an assemblage of over 
two hundred miners. Owing to unusual expenses, we 
regret to be compelled to draw upon you for five hun- 
dred dollars more." So! [Putting down letter. ~\ If 
we were given to pride and vain glory, we might well 
be puffed up with the fame of our works and the 
contagion of our example: yet I fear that, with the 
worldly-minded, this praise of charity to others is 
only the prayerful expectation of some personal appli- 
cation to the praiser. [Rings hand-bell.'] 

Enter Jackson. 

[To Jackson.] File these letters [handing letters] 
with the others. There is no answer. Has young 
Mr. Alexander come in yet ? 

Jackson. He only left here an hour ago. It was 
Bteamer day yesterday : he was up all night, sir. 

Old Morton [aside]. True. And the night before he 
travelled all night, riding two hours ahead of one ot 
our defaulting agents, and saved the bank a hundred 
thousand dollars. Certainly his devotion to business 
is unremitting. [Aloud.] Any news from Col. Star- 
bottle? 

Jackson. He left this note, sii, early this morning. 

Old Morton [takes it, and reads]. "I think I may 
«ay, on my own personal responsibility, that the mis- 



84 TWO MEN OP SANDY BAR. 

Bion is successful. Miss Morris will arrive to-night 
with a female attendant and child." [To Jackson.] 
That is all, sir. Stop ! Has any one been smoking 
here? 

Jackson. Not to my knowledge, sir. 

Old Morton. There was a flavor of stale tobacco- 
Bmoke in the room this morning when I entered, and 
ashes on the carpet. I know' that young Mr. Alexan- 
der has abandoned the pernicious habit. See that it 
does not occur again. 

Jackson. Yes, sir. [Aside.'] I must warn Mr. 
Alexander that his friends must be more careful; 
and yet those ashes were good for a deposit of fifty 
thousand. 

Old Morton. Is any one waiting ? 

Jackson. Yes, sir, — Don Jose Castro and Mr. Cap- 
per. 

Old Morton. Show in the Don : the policeman can 
wait. 

Jackson. Yes, sir. [Exit. 

Old Morton [taking up Starbottle's note]. " Miss 
Morris will arrive to-night." And yet he saw her 
-mly yesterday. This is not like her mother: no. 
She would never have forgiven and forgotten so 
quickly. Perhaps she knew not my sin and her 
mother's wrongs ; perhaps she has — has — Christian 
forgiveness [sarcastically'] ; perhaps, like my prodigal, 
she will be immaculately perfect. Well, well: a/ 
least her presence will make my home less lonely 
" An attendant and child." A child ! Ah, if he, my 
boy, my Alexander, were still a child, I might warm 



TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. 85 

this cold, cold heart in his sunshine! Strange that : 
cannot reconstruct from this dutiful, submissive, 
obedient, industrious Alexander, — this redeemed 
outcast, this son who shares my life, my fortunes, my 
heart, — the foolish, wilful, thoughtless, idle boy, that 
once defied me. I remember [musing, with a smile - ] 
how the little rascal, ha, ha ! once struck me, — 
struck me! — when I corrected him: ha, ha! [Rub- 
bing his hands with amusement, and then suddenly 
becoming grave and lugubrious.'] ISTo, no. These are 
the whisperings of the flesh. Why should I find fault 
with him for being all that a righteous conversion 
demands, — all that I asked and prayed for? No, 
Alexander Morton : it is you, you, who are not yet 
regenerate. It is you who are ungrateful to Him 
who blessed you, to Him whose guiding hand led you 
to — 

Enter Jackson. 

Jackson. Den Jose Castro. 

Enter Don Jose. 

Don Jose. A thousand pardons, senor, for inter- 
rupting you in the hours of business ; but it is — i6 
is of business I would speak. [Looking around.] 

Old Morton [to Jackson]. You can retire. [Exit 
Jackson.] Be seated, Mr. Castro: I am at your 
service. 

Bon Jose'. It is of your — your son — 

Old Morton. Our firm is Morton & Son : in busi- 
ness we are one, Mr. Castro. 

Don Jose, Bueno ! Then to you as to him I wiU 



86 TWO MEN OP SANDY BAR. 

speak. Here is a letter I received yesterday. It haa 
significance, importance perhaps. But, whatever it is, 
it is something for you, not me, to know. If I am 
wronged much, Don Alexandra, you, you, are wronged 
still more. Shall I read it? Good. [Reads.'] "The 
man to whom you have affianced your daughter is not 
the son of Alexander Morton. Have a care. If I do 
not prove him an impostor at the end of six days, 
believe me one, and not your true friend and servant, 
Concho." In six days, Don Alexandro, the year of 
probation is over, and I have promised my daughter's 
hand to your son. [Hands letter to Morton.] 

Old Morton [ringing bell.] Is that all, Mr. Castro? 

Don Jose. All, Mr. Castro ? Carramba ! is it not 
enough ? 

Enter Jackson. 

Old Morton [to Jackson]. You have kept a record 
of this business during the last eighteen months. 
Look at this letter. [Handing letter.] Is the hand- 
writing familiar? 

Jackson [taking letter.] Can't say, sir. The form is 
the old one. 

Old Morton. How many such letters have yoa 
received ? 

Jackson. Four hundred and forty-one, sir. This 
is the four hundred and forty-second application for 
your son's position, sir. 

Don Jose. Pardon. This is not an application : it 
is only information or caution. 

Old Morton [to Jackson.] How many letters of 
information or caution have we received? 



TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. 8"i 

Jackson. This makes seven hundred and eighty- 
one, sir. 

Old Morton. How, sir! [Quickly."] There were 
!>ut seven hundred and seventy-nine last night. 

Jackson. Beg pardon, sir! The gentleman who 
carried Mr. Alexander's valise from the boat was the 
Beven hundred and eightieth. 

Old Morton. Explain yourself, sir. 

Jackson. He imparted to me, while receiving hi3 
stipend, the fact that he did not believe young Mr. 
Alexander was your son. An hour later, sir, he also 
imparted to me confidentially that he believed you were 
his father, and requested the loan of five dollars, to 
be repaid by you, to enable him to purchase a clean 
shirt, and appear before you in respectable condition. 
He waited for you an hour, and expressed some indig- 
nation that he had not an equal show with others, to 
throw himself into your arms. 

Don Jose [rising, aside, and uplifting his hands.] 
Carramba! These Americanos are of the Devil! 
[Aloud.] Enough, Don Alexandre' Then you think 
this letter is only worth — 

Old Morton. One moment. I can perhaps tell you 
exactly its market value. [To Jackson.] Go on, sir. 

Jackson. At half-past ten, sir, then being slightly 
under the influence of liquor, he accepted the price of 
a deck passage to Stockton. 

Old Morton. How much was that, sir ? 

Jackson. Fifty cents. 

Old Morton. Exactly so ! There you have, sir [to 
Don Jose], the market value of the information you 



88 TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. 

have received. I would advise you, as a business 
matter, not to pay more. As a business matter, you 
can at any time draw upon us for the amount. [To, 
Jackson.] Admit Mr. Capper. [Exit Jackson.] 

Don Jose [rising with dignity. ,] This is an insult, 
Don Alexandra. 

Old Morton. You are wrong, Mr. Castro: it is busi- 
ness; sought, I believe, by yourself. Now that it is 
transacted, I beg you to dine with me to-morrow to 
meet my niece. No offence, sir, no offence. Come, 
come ! Business, you know, business. 

Don Jose' [relaxing']. Be it so ! I will come. [Aside. ] 
These Americanos, these Americanos, are of the Devil! 
[Aloud.'] Adios. [Going.] I hear, by report, that 
you have met with the misfortune of a serious loss by 
robbery ? 

Old Morton [aside]. So our mishap is known every- 
where ! [Aloud.] No serious misfortune, Mr. Castro, 
even if we do not recover the money. Adios. 

[Exit Don Jose. 

Old Morton. The stiff-necked Papist! That he 
should dare, for the sake of his black-browed, fro ward 
daughter, to question the faith on which I have pinned 
my future ! Well, with God's blessing, I gave him 
some wholesome discipline. If it were not for m\; 
covenant with Alexander, — and nobly he has ful- 
filled his part, — I should forbid his alliance with th* 
blood of this spying Jesuit. 

Enter Mr. Jackson, leading in Capper. 
Jackson. Policeman, sir. . [Exit 



TWO MEN OP SANDY BAR. 89 

Capper [turning sharply']. Who's that man? 

Old Morton. Jackson, clerk. 

Capper. Uriaph ! Been here long ? 

Old Morton. A year. He was appointed by my 
son. 

Capper. Know any thing of his previous life ? 

Old Morton [stiffly']. I have already told you he is 
an appointee of my son's. 

Capper. Yes! [Aside.] " Like master, like man.' ' 
[Aloud.] "Well, to business. We have worked up 
the robbery. We have reached two conclusions, — one, 
that the work was not done by professionals; the 
other, consequent upon this, that you can't recover 
the money. 

Old Morton. Excuse me, sir, but I do not see the 
last conclusion. 

Capper. Then listen. The professional thief has 
only one or two ways of disposing of his plunder, and 
these ways are always well known to us. Good ! Your 
stolen coin has not been disposed of in the regular 
way, through the usual hands which we could at any 
time seize. Of this we are satisfied. 

Old Morton. How do you know it? 

Capper. In this way. The only clew we have to 
the identification of the missing money were two 
boxes of Mexican doubloons. 

Old Morton [aside]. Mr. Castro's special deposit ! 
He may have reason for his interest. [Aloud.] Go 
on. 

Capper. It is a coin rare in circulation in the inte- 
rior. The night after the robbery, the dealer of a 



90 TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. 

monte-table in Sacramento paid out five thousand 
dollars in doubloons. He declared it was taken in at 
the table, and could not identify the players. Of 
course, of course! So far, you see, you are helpless. 
We have only established one fact, that the robber is 
— is — [significantly] a gambler. 

Old Morton [quietly']. The regular trade of the thief 
seems to me to be of little importance if you cannot 
identify him, or recover my money. But go on, sir, go 
on: or is this all? 

Capper [aside]. The old fool is blind. That is 
natural. [Aloud.] It is not all. The crime will 
doubtless be repeated. The man who has access to 
your vaults, who has taken only thirty thousand dol- 
lars when he could have secured half a million, — this 
man, who has already gambled that thirty thousand 
away, — will not stop there. He will in a day or two, 
perhaps to-day, try to retrieve his losses out of your 
capital. / am here to prevent it. 

Old Morton [becoming interested]. How? 

Capper. Give me, for forty-eight hours, free access 
to this building. Let me conceal myself somewhere, 
anywhere, within these walls. Let it be without the 
knowledge of your clerks, even of your son! 

Old Morton [proudly]. Mr. Alexander Morton is 
absent to-day. There is no other reason why he 
should not be here to consent to the acts of his part- 
aer and father. 

Capper [quickly]. Very good. It is only to insure 
absolute secrecy. 

Old Morton [aside]. Another robbery might excite 



TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. 91 

B> suspicion, worse for our credit than our actual loss. 
There is a significant earnestness about this man, that 
awakens my fears. If Alexander were only here. 
[Aloud.'] I accept. [Capper has been trying doors R. 
and l.] 

Capper What room is this? [At r.] 
Old Morion. My son's: I would prefer — 
Capper. And this? [At l.] 
Old Morton. Mine, sir; if you choose — 
Capper [locking door, and putting keg in his pocket]. 
This will do. Oblige me by making the necessary 
arrangements in your counting-room. 

Old Morton [hesitating and aside]. He is right: per- 
haps it is only prudence, and I am saving Alexander 
additional care and annoyance. [Exit. 

Enter Mr. Shadow cautiously, c. 

Shadow [in a lisping whisper to Capper]. I've got 
the lithfc of the clerkth complete. 

Capper [triumphantly]. Put it in your pocket, 
Shadow. We don't care for the lackeys now : we are 
after the master. 

Shadow. Eh ! the mathter ? 

Capper. Yes : the master, — the young master, 
the reclaimed son, the reformed prodigal ! ha, ha ! — 
the young man who compensates himself for all this 
austere devotion to business and principle by dipping 
into the old man's vaults when he wants a pasear: 
eh, Shadow? That's the man we're after. Look 
here! / never took any stock in that young man's 
reformation. Ye don't teach old sports like him new 



92 TWO MEN OF SANDY BAH. 

tricks. They're a bad lot, father and son, — eh, 
Shadow ? — and he's a chip of the old block. I 
spotted him before this robbery, before we were ever 
called in here professionally. I've had my eye on 
Alexander Morton, alias John Oakhurst; and, when I 
found the old man's doubloons raked over a mocte- 
table at Sacramento, I knew where to look for the 
thief. Eh, Shadow? 

Shadow [aside']- He ith enormouth, thith Mithtec 
Capper. 

Enter Old Morton. 

Old Morton. I have arranged every thing. You 
will not be disturbed or suspected here in my private 
office. Eh ! [Looking at Shadow.] Who has slipped 
in here ? 

Capper. Only my Shadow, Mr. Morton ; but I can 

rid myself even of that. [Crosses to Shadow.] Take 

this card to the office, and wait for further orders. 

Vanish, Shadow ! [Exit Shadow. 

Enter Jackson. 

Jackson. Mr. Alexander has come in, sir. [Old 
Morton and Capper start.] 

Old Morton. Where is he ? 

Jackson. In his private room, sir. 

Old Morton. Enough : you can go. [Exit Jackson. 

Capper [crossing to Morton]. Bemember, you have 
given your pledge of secrecy. Beware ! Your honor, 
your property, the credit and reputation of your bank, 
are at stake. 

Old Morton [after a pause of hesitation, with dignity], 
I gave you my word, sir, while my son was not pre* 



TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. 93 

ent. I shall save myself from breaking my word 
with you, or concealing any thing from him, by with- 
drawing myself. For the next twenty-four hours, 
this room [pointing to private room r.] is yours. 

Each regards the other. Exit Old Morton c, as Capper 
exit in private room r. After a pause, door of room 
l. opens, and Harry York appears, slightly intoxi- 
cated, followed by John Oakhurst. 

Harry York {looking around']. By Jove! Morton, 
but you've got things in style here. And this yer's 
the gov'nor's desk; and here old Praise God Bare- 
bones sits opposite ye. Look yer, old boy [throwing 
himself in chair], I kin allow how it comes easy for ye 
to run this bank, for it's about as exciting, these 
times, as faro was to ye in '49, when I first knew ye 
as Jack Oakhurst; but how the Devil you can sit 
opposite that stir! embodiment of all the Ten Com- 
mandments, day by day, damn it ! that's wot gets me ! 
Why, the first day I came here on business, the old 
man froze me so that I couldn't thaw a deposit out of 
my pocket. It chills me to think of it. 

Oakhurst [hastily]. I suppose I am accustomed to 
him. But come, Harry: let me warm you. [Opens 
door of safe l., and discovers cupboard, decanter, and 
glasses.] 

York [laughing]. By Jove! under the old man's 
very nose. Jack, this is like you. [Takes a drink.] 
Well, old boy, this is like old times. But you don't 
drink ? 

Oakhurst. No, nor smoke. The fact is, Harry. 



94 TWO MEN OF SANDY RAR. 

I've taken a year's pledge. I've six days still to run ; 
after that [gloomily], why [with a reckless laugh], I 
shall be Jack Oakhurst again. 

York. Lord! to think of your turning out to be 
anybody's son, Jack! — least of all, his! [Pointing to 
chair.] 

Oakhurst [laughing recklessly]. Not more strange 
than that I should find Harry York, the spendthrift 
of Poker Flat, the rich and respected Mr. York, 
produce-merchant of San Francisco. 

York. Yes; but, my boy, you see I didn't strike 
it — in a rich father. I gave up gambling, married, 
and settled down, saved my money, invested a little 
here and there, and — worked for it, Jack, damn me, 
— worked for it like a damned horse ! 

Oakhurst [aside]. True, this is not work. 

York. But that ain't my business with ye now, old 
boy: it's this. You've had some trials and troubles in 
the bank lately, — a defalcation of agents one day, a 
robbery nest. It's luck, my boy, luck! but ye know 
people will talk. You don't mind my sayin' that there's 
rumors 'round. The old man's mighty unpopular be- 
cause he's a saint; and folks don't entirely fancy you 
because you used to be the reverse. Well, Jack, it 
amounts to 'bout this : I've withdrawn my account 
from Parkinson's, in Sacramento, and I've got a 
pretty heavy balance on hand — nigh on two hundred 
thousand — in bonds and certificates here; and if it 
will help you over the rough places, old boy, as a 
deposit, yer it is [drawing pocket-book]. 

Oakhurst [greatly affected, but endeavoring to concea* 
it]. Thank you, Harry, old fellow — but — 



TWO MEN OF SAtfDY BAR. 95 

York [quickly']. I know: I'll take the risk, a busi- 
ness risk. You'll stand by me all you can, old boy; 
you'll make it pay all you can; and if you lose it — 
why — all right ! 

Oakhurst [embarrassed]. As a deposit with Morton 
& Son, drawing two per cent monthly interest — 

York. Damn Morton & Son! I'll back it with Jack 
Oakhurst, the man I know. 

Oakhurst [advancing slowly]. I'll take it, Harry. 

York [extending his hand]. It's a square game, 
Jack! 

Oakhurst [seizing his hand with repressed emotion]. 
It's a square game, Harry York, if I live. 

York. Then I'll travel. Good-night, old boy. I'll 
send my clerk around in the morning to put things 
right. Good-night [going]. 

Oakhurst [grasping York's hand]. One moment^ 
no — nothing! Good-night. [Exit Youk. 

Oakhurst follows him to door, and then returns to desk, 
throwing himself in chair, and burying his face in his 

hands. 

Oakhurst [with deep feeling]. It needed but this to 
fill the measure of my degradation. I have borne the 
suspicions of the old man's enemies, the half-pitying, 
half -contemptuous sympathy of his friends, even his 
own cold, heartless, fanatical fulfilment of his sense 
of duty; but this — this confidence from one who had 
most reason to scorn me, this trust from one who knew 
me as I ivas, — this is the hardest burden. And he, 
too, in time will know me to be an impostor. He 



96 TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. 

too — a reformed man ; but he has honorably retraced 
his steps, and won the position I hold by a trick, an 
imposture. And what is all my labor beside his hon- 
est sincerity? I have fought against the chances that 
might discover my deception, against the enemies who 
would overthrow me, against the fate that put me 
here; and I have been successful — yes, a successful 
impostor ! I have even fought against the human 
instinct that told this fierce, foolish old man that 1 
was an alien to his house, to his blood; I have even 
felt him scan my face eagerly for some reflection of his 
long-lost boy, for some realization of his dream ; and 
I have seen him turn away, cold, heartsick, and de- 
spairing. What matters that I have been to him 
devoted, untiring, submissive, ay, a better son to him 
than his own weak flesh and blood would have been ? 
He would to-morrow cast me forth to welcome the 
outcast, Sandy Morton. Well, what matters ? [Reck- 
lessly.] Nothing. In six days it will be over; in six 
days the year of my probation will have passed; in 
six days I will disclose to him the deceit I have prac- 
tised, and will face the world again as John Oakhurst, 
the gambler, who staked and lost all on a single cast. 
And Jovita! Well, well! — the game is made : it is 
too late to draw out now. [Rings bell. Enter Jack- 
son.] Who has been here? 

Jackson. Only Don Jose, and Mr. Capper the de- 
tective. 

Oakhurst. The detective? What for? 

Jackson. To work up the robbery, sir. 

Oakhurst. True 1 Capper, Capper, yes I A man oi 



TWO MEN OP SANDY BAR. 9/ 

wild and ridiculous theories, but well-meaning, brave, 
and honest. [Aside.'] This is the old man's idea. 
He does not know that I was on the trail of the 
thieves an hour before the police were notified. 
[Aloud.'] Well, sir? 

Jackson. He told your father he thought the recov- 
ery of the money hopeless, but he came to caution us 
against a second attempt. 

Oakhurst [aside, starting]. True! I had not thought 
of that. [Excitedly.] The success of their first at- 
tempt will incite them to another; the money they 
have stolen is gone by this time. [Aloud.] Jackson, 
I will stay here to-night and to-morrow night, and 
relieve your regular watchman. You will, of course, 
say nothing of my intention. 

Jackson. Yes, sir. [Lingering.] 

Oakhurst [after a pause]. That is all, Mr. Jackson. 

Jackson. Beg your pardon, Mr. Morton; but Col. 
Starbottle, with two ladies, was here half an hour 
ago, and said they would come again when you were 
alone. 

Oakhurst. Yery well: admit them. 

Jackson. Beg pardon, sir; but they seemed to 
avoid seeing your father until they had seen you. It 
looked mysterious, and I thought I would tell you 
first. 

Oakhurst [laughing]. Admit them, Mr. Jackson. 

[Exit Jackson.] This poor fellow's devotion is in- 

' creasing. He, too, believes that his old associate in 

dissipation, John Oakhurst, is the son of Alexander 

Morton. He, too, wiL 1 . nave to share in the disgrace oi 



98 TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. 

the impostor. Ladies! umph ! [Looking down at his 
clothes.'] I'm afraid the reform of Alexander Morton 
hasn't improved the usual neatness of John Oak- 
hurst. I haven't slept, nor changed my clothes, for 
three days. [Goes to door of Morton, sen. 's, room.] 
Locked, and the key on the inside! That's strange. 
Nonsense ! the old man has locked his door, and gone 
out through the private entrance. Well, I'll find 
means of making my toilet here. 

[Exit into private room L. 

Enter Jackson, leading in Col. Starbottle, Miss 
Mary, the Duchess, and child of three years. 

Jackson. Mr. Alexander Morton, jun., is in his 
private room. He will be here in a moment. 

[Exit Jackson. 

Starbottle. One moment, a single moment, Miss 
Mary. Permit me to — er — if I may so express my- 
self, to — er — group the party, to — er — place 
the — er — present company into position. I have — 
er — observed as part of my — er — legal experience, 
that in cases of moral illustration a great, I may say 
— er — tremendous, effect on the — er — jury, I mean 
the — er — guilty party, has been produced by the 
attitude of the — er — victim and martyr. You, 
madam, as the — er — injured wife [placing her], 
shall stand here, firm yet expectant, protecting your 
child, yet looking hopefully for assistance toward its 
natural protector. You, Miss Mary, shall stand here 
[placing her], as Moral Retribution, leaning toward 
and slightly appealing to me, the image of ■ — er — e/ 



TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. 99 

•— Inflexible Justice ! [Inflates his chest, puts his hand 
fa his bosom, and strikes an attitude. ] 

Door of young Morton's room opens, and discloses Mr. 
Oakhurst gazing at the group. He starts slightly on 
observing the Duchess, but instantly recovers himself, 
and faces the company coldly. The Duchess starts on 
observing Oakhurst, and struggles in confusion to- 
wards the door, dragging with her the child and Miss 
Mary, who endeavors to re-assure her. Col. Star- 
bottle looks in astonishment from one to the other, and 
advances to front. 

Col. Starbottle [aside]. The — er — tableau, al- 
though striking in moral force, is apparently — er — 
deficient in moral stamina. 

Miss Mary [angrily to the Duchess]. I'm ashamed 
of you ! [To Oakhurst, advancing.] I don't ask 
pardon fo:: my intrusion. If you are Alexander Mor- 
ton, you are my kinsman, and you will know that I 
cannot introduce myself better than as the protector 
of an injured woman. Come here ! [To the Duchess, 
dragging her towards Oakhurst. To Oakhurst.] 
Look upon this woman : she claims to be — 

Starbottle [stepping between Miss Mary and the 
Duchess]. A moment, Miss Mary, a single moment! 
Permit me to — er — explain. The whole thing, the 
— er — situation reminds me, demn me, of most amus- 
ing incident at Sacramento in '52. Large party at 
Hank Suedecois: Know Hank? Confirmed old bach 
of sixty. Dinner for forty. Every thing in style, 
first families, Ged, — Judge Beeswinger, Mat Boom- 

LofC. 



100 TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. 

pointer, and Maje Blodgett of Ahlabam : know old 
Maje Blodgett? Well, Maje was there. Ged, sir, 
delay, — everybody waiting. I went to Hank. 
"Hank," I says, ''what's matter? why delay?" 
— ' ' Star, " he says, — always called me Star, — ' ' Star, 
—•it's cook! " — " Demn cook," I says : " discharge 
cook, — only a black mulatto any way! " — " Can't, 
Star," he says : " impossible ! " — " Can't? " says I. 
"No," says he. "Listen, Star," he says, "family 
secret! Honor! Can't discharge cook, because cook 

— demn it — 's my wife ! " Fact, sir, fact — showed 
marriage certificate — married privately seven years ! 
Fact, sir — 

The Duchess [to Miss Mary]. Some other time, 
miss. Let us go now. There's a mistake, miss, I 
can't explain. Some other time, miss! See, miss, 
how cold and stern he looks ! another time, miss 1 
[Struggling.'] For God's sake, miss, let me go ! 

Miss Mary. No! This mystery must be cleared 
up now, before I enter his house, — before I accept the 
charge of this — 

Starbottle [interrupting, and crossing before Miss 
Mary]. A moment — a single moment, miss. [To 
Oakhurst.] Mr. Morton, you will pardon the ex- 
uberance, and perhaps, under the circumstances, 
Bomewhat natural impulsiveness, of the — er — sex, 
for which I am perhaps responsible ; I may say — ei 

— personally, sir, — personally responsible — 
Oakhurst [coldly]. Go on, sir. 

Starbottle. The lady on my right is — er — the 
uiece of your father, — your cousin. The lady on 



TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. 101 

toy left, engaged in soothing the — er — bashful 
timidity of infancy, is — er — that is — er — claims 
to be, the mother of the child of Alexander Morton. 

Oakhurst [calmly]. She is right. 

Miss Alary [rushing forward']. Then you are — 

Oakhurst [gently restraining her]. You have another 
question to ask: you hesitate: let me ask it. [Cross- 
ing to the Duchess.] You have heard my answer. 
Madam, are you the legal wife of Alexander Morton? 

The Duchess [sinking upon her knees, and dropping her 
face in her hands]. No ! 

Oakhurst. Enough: I will take the child. Pardon 
toe, Miss Morris, but you have heard enough to know 
that your mission is accomplished, but that what else 
passes between this woman and myself becomes no 
stranger to hear. [Motions toward room l.] 

Miss Mary [aside]. It is his son. I am satisfied 
[going]. Come, colonel. [Exeunt into room l., Star- 
bottle and Miss Mary.] 

The Duchess [crossing to Oakhurst, and falling at 
Ms feet]. Forgive me, Jack, forgive me! It was no 
fault of mine. I did not know that you were here. 
I did not know that you had taken his name! 

Oakhurst. Hush — on your life ! 

The Duchess. Hear me, Jack! I was anxious only 
fut. a home for my child. I came to her — the school- 
mistress of Ked Gulch — for aid. I told her the 
name of my boy's father. She — she brought me 
here. Oh, forgive me, Jack! I have offended you I 

Oakhurst. How can I believe you? You have de- 
ceived him. You have deceived me. Listen! When 



102 TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. 

I said, a moment ago, you were not the wife of Alex- 
ander Morton, it was because I knew that your first 
husband — the Australian convict Pritchard — was 
still living; that you had deceived Sandy Morton as 
you had deceived me. That was why I left you. Tell 
me, have you deceived me also about him, as you did 
about the other? Is he living, and with you; or dead, 
as you declared ? 

The Duchess [aside]. He will kill me if I tell him. 
[Aloud.] No, no. He is gone — is dead these three 
years. 

Oakhurst. You swear ! 

The Duchess [hesitates, gasps, and looks around for her 
child; then seizing it, and drawing it toward her]. I — 
swear. 

Oakhurst. Enough. Seek not to know why / am 
here, and under his name. Enough for you that it 
has saved your child's future, and secured him his 
heritage past all revocation. Yet remember ! a word 
from you within the next few days destroys it all. 
After that, I care not what you say. 

The Duchess. Jack ! One word, Jack, before I 
go. I never thought to bring my shame to you ! — to 
him! 

Oakhurst. It was no trick, then, no contrivance, 
that brought her here. IsTo : it was fate. And at 
least I shall save his child. 

Re-enter Starbottle, Miss Mary> and Duchess. 

Col. Starbottle [impressively]. Permit me, Mr. Ales 
aiider Morton, as the friend of my — er — principal 



TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. 103 

to declare that we have received — honorable — hon- 
orable — satisfaction. Allow me, sir, to grasp the 
hand, the — er — cherished hand of a gentleman 
who, demn me! has fulfilled all his duties to — er — 
society and gentlemen. And allow me to add, sir, 
should any invidious criticism of the present — er — 
settlement be uttered in my presence, I shall hold 
that critic responsible, sir — er — personally responsi- 
ble! 

Miss Mary [sweeping truculently and aggressively up 
to John Oakhurst]. And permit me to add, sir, 
that, if you can see your way clearly out of this 
wretched muddle, it's more than I can. This arrange- 
ment may be according to the Californian code of 
morality, but it doesn't accord with my Eastern ideas 
of right and wrong. If this foolish, wretched crea- 
ture chooses to abandon all claim upon you, chooses 
to run away from you, — why, I suppose, as a gentle- 
man, according to your laws of honor, you are ab- 
solved. Good-night, Mr. Alexander Morton. [Goes 
to door c, and exit, pushing out Starbottle, the 
Duchess, and child. Mr. Oakhurst sinks into 
chair at desk, burying his face in his hands. Re-enter 
slowly and embarrassedly, Miss Mary : looks toward 
Oakhurst, and comes sloiuly down stage.'] 

Miss Mary [aside']. I was too hard on him. I was 
not so hard on Sandy, when I thought that he — he 
— was the father of her child. And he's my own 
flesh and blood, too; and — he's crying. [Aloud.} 
Mr. Morton. 

Oakhurst [slowly lifting his head]. Yes, Miss Mary. 



104 TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. 

Miss Mary. I spoke hastily just then. I — I 
— thought — you see — I — [angrily and passionately' 
I mean this. I'm a stranger. I don't understand 
your Californian ways, and I don't want to. But I 
believe you've done what you thought was right, 
according to a man's idea of right ; and — there's my 
hand. Take it, take it ; for it's a novelty, Mr. Mor- 
ton : it's the hand of an honest girl ! 

Oakhurst [hesitates, then rises, sinks on one knee, and 
raises Miss Mary's fingers to his lips]. God bless you, 
miss ! God bless you ! 

Miss Mary [i-etreating to centre door.~] Good-night, 
good-night [slowly], — cousin — Alexander. 

[Exit. Dark stage. 

Oakhurst [rising swiftly]. No, no: it is false! Ah! 
She's gone. Another moment, and I would have told 
her all. Pshaw ! courage, man ! It is only six days 
more, and you are free, and this year's shame and 
agony forever ended. 

Enter Jackson. 

Jackson. As you ordered, sir, the night watchman 
has been relieved, and has just gone. 

Oakhurst. Very good, sir ; and you ? 

Jackson. I relieved the porter, sir; and I shall 
bunk on two chairs in the counting-room. You'll find 
me handy, if you want me, sir. Good-night, sir. 

[Exit c. 

Oakhurst. I fear these rascals will not dare to make 
their second attempt to-night. A quiet scrimmage 
with them, enough to keep me awake or from think 



TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. 105 

big, would be a good fortune. No, no ! no such luck 
for you to-night, John Oakhurst ! You are playing a 
losing game. . . . Yet the robbery was a bold one. 
At eleven o'clock, while the bank was yet lighted, and 
Mr. Jackson and another clerk were at work here, 
three well-dressed men pick the lock of the counting- 
house door, enter, and turn the key on the clerks in 
this parlor, and carry away a box of doubloons not yet 
placed in the vaults by the porter ; and all this done 
so cautiously that the clerks within knew nothing of it 
until notified of the open street-door by the private 
watchman, and so boldly that the watchman, seeing 
them here, believed them clerks of the bank, and let 
them go unmolested. No: this was the coincidence 
of good luck, not of bold premeditation. There will 
be no second attempt. [Yawns.] If they don't come 
soon I shall fall asleep. Four nights without rest will 
tell on a man, unless he has some excitement to back 
him. [Nods.] Hallo ! What was that? Oh! Jack- 
son in the counting-room getting to bed. I'll look at 
that front-door myself. [Takes revolver from desk, and 
goes to door c. , tries lock, comes down stage with revolver, 
examines it, and lays it down.~] 

Oakhurst [slowly and quietly]. The door is locked on 
the outside: that may have been an accident. The 
caps are taken from my pistol: that was not! Well, 
here is the vault, and here is John Oakhurst: to reach 
the one, they must pass the other. [Takes off his coat, 
seizes poker from grate, and approaches safe.] Hal 
some one is moving in the old man's room. [Ap» 
proaches djor of room r. as~~ 



106 TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. 

Enter noiselessly and cautiously from room l., Pritch- 
ard, Silky, and Soapy. Pritchard and Ids con- 
federates approach Oakhurst from behind, -arrying 
lariat, or slip-noose. 
Oakhurst {listening at door R.]. Good. At least I 

know from what quarter to expect the attack. Ah 1 

Pritchard throws slip-noose over Oakhurst from 
behind , Oakhurst puts his hand in his breast as the 
slip-noose is drawn across his bosom, pinioning one arm 
over his breast, and the other at his side. Silky and 
Soapy, directed by Pritchard, drag Oakhurst to 
chair facing front, and pinion his legs. Pritchard 
C, regarding him. 

Oakhurst [very coolly']. You have left me my voice, 
I suppose, because it is useless. 

Pritchard. That's so-, pard. 'Twon't be no help 
to ye. 

Oakhurst. Then you have killed Jackson. 

Pritchard. Lord love ye, no! That ain't like us, 
pard ! Jackson's tendin' door for us, and kinder 
lookin' out gin'rally for the boys. Thar's nothin' 
mean about Jackson. 

Soapy. No! Jackson's a squar man. Eh, Silky? 

Silky. Ez white a man ez they is, pard ! 

Oakhurst [aside]. The traitor! [Aloud.] Well! 

Pritchard. Well, you want ter know our business. 
Call upon a business man in business hours. Our 
little game is this, Mr. Jack Morton Alexander Oak 
hurst. "When we was here the other night, we wai> 
wantin' a key to that theer lock [pointing to vault], and 
we sorter dropped in passin' to get it. 



TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. 

v9 



107 



Oakhurst. And suppose I refuse to give it up' 
Pritchard. We were kalkilatin' on yer bein' eveu 
that impolite: wasn't we, boys? 
Silky and Soapy. We was that. 
Pritchard. And so we got Mr. Jackson to take an 
impression of it in wax. Oh, he's a squar man — is 
Mr. Jackson ! 

Silky. Jackson is a white man, Soapy ! 
Soapy. They don't make no better men nor Jack- 
son, Silky. 

Pritchard. And we've got a duplicate key here. 
But we don't want any differences, pard: we only 
want a squar game. It seemed to us — some of your 
old pards as knew ye, Jack — that ye had a rather 
soft thing here, reformin' ; and we thought ye was 
kinder throwin' off on the boys, not givin' 'em any 
hand in the game. But thar ain't any thin' mean 
about us. Eh, boys? 

Soapy. We is allers ready to chip in ekal in the 
game. Eh, Silky? 

Silky. That's me, Soapy. 

Pritchard. Ye see, the boys is free and open-handed, 
jack. And so the proposition we wanter make to ye, 
Jack, is this. It's reg'lar on the squar. We reckon, 
takin Mr. Jackson's word, — and thar ain't no man's 
word ez is better nor Jackson's, —that there's nigh 
on to two millions in that vault, not to speak of a lit- 
tle speshil de-posit o' York's, ez we learn from that 
accommodatin' friend Mr. Jackson We propose to 
share it with ye, on ekil terms — us five — countin' 
Jackson, a square man. In course, we takes the risk 



1 08 TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. 

d' packin' it away to-night comfortable. Ez your 
friends, Jack, we allow this yer little arrangement to 
be a deuced sight easier for you than playin' Sandy 
Morton on a riglar salary, with the chance o' the real 
Sandy poppin' in upon ye any night. 

Oahhurst. It's a lie. Sandy is dead. 

Pritchard. In course, in course! that is your little 
game! But we kalkilated, Jack, even on that, on yer 
bem' rambunktious and contrary; and so we went ter 
Red Gulch, and found SaDdy. Ye know I take a 
kind o' interest in Sandy: he's the second husband of 
my wife, the woman you run away with, pard. But 
thar's nothin' mean about me ! eh, boys ? 

Silky. No! he's the forgivingest kind of a man, is 
Pritchard. 

Soapy. That's so, Silky. 

Pritchard. And, thinkin* ye might be dubious, we 
filled Sandy about full o' rye-whisky, and brought 
him along; and one of our pards is preambulatin' tha 
Streets with him, ready to bring him on call. 

Oakhurst. It's a lie, Pritchard, — a cowardly liel 

Pritchard. Is it? Hush! 

Sandy [without, singing'], — 

Oh, yer's yer Sandy Morton, 

Drink liiin down! 
Oh, yer's yer Sandy Morton, 

Drink him down! 
Oh, yer's yer Sandy Morton, 

All alive and lust a-snortinl 
Oh, yer's yer Sandy Morton, 

Drink him down! 



TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. 109 

Pritchard. We don't propose to run him in yer, 
cept we're took, or yer unaccommodatin' to the boys. 

Oakhurst. And if I refuse ? 

Pritchard. Why, we'll take what we can get; and 
we'll leave Sandy Morton with you yer, to sorter alle- 
viate the old man's f eelin's over the loss of his money. 
There's nothin' mean about us; no ! eh, boys? {Going 
toward safe.~] 

Oakhurst. Hear me a moment, Henry Pritchard. 
[Pritchard stops abreast of Oakhurst.] Four years 
ago you were assaulted in the Arcade Saloon in Sac- 
ramento. You would have been killed, but your 
assailant suddenly fell dead by a pistol-shot fired from 
some unknown hand. I stood twenty feet from you 
with folded arms ; but that shot was fired by me, — 
me, Henry Pritchard, — through my clothes, from a 
derringer hidden in my waistcoat! Understand me, 
I do not ask your gratitude now. But that pistol is 
in my right hand, and now covers you. Make a sin- 
gle motion, — of a muscle, — and it is your last. 

Pritchard {motionless, but excitedly']. You dare not 
fire! No, dare not! A shot here will bring my pal 
and Sandy Morton to confront you. You will have 
killed me to save exposure, have added murder to 
imposture ! You have no witness to this attempt! 

Capper {opening door of room l. , at the same moment 
that two policemen appear at door c, and two at room 
r.] You are wrong: he has five {crossing to Silky and 
Soapy, and laying his hands on their shoulders'}] and, if 
I mistake not, he has two more in these gentlemen, 
whom I know, and who will be quite as willing to 



110 TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. 

furnish the necessary State's evidence of the robbery 
as of the fact that they never knew any other Alex- 
ander Morton than the gentleman who sits in that 
chair. 

Soapy. That's so, Silky. 

Silky. That's so, Soapy. 

Capper [to policemen']. Take them away. 
[Exit policemen with Pritchard, Soapy, and Silky. 
Capper unbinds Oakhurst. 

Oakhurst. Then I have to thank you, Mr. C. 

Capper. Yes! "A man of ridiculous theories, 
but well-meaning, brave, and honest." No, sir; don't 
apologize: you were right, Mr. Oakhurst. It is I 
who owe you an apology. I came here, believing you 
were the robber, having no faith in you or your 
reformation, expecting, — yes, sir, — hoping, to de- 
tect you in the act. Hear me ! From the hour you 
first entered the bank, I have shadowed your every 
movement, I have been the silent witness of all that 
has passed in this room. You have played a desper- 
ate game, Mr. Oakhurst; but I'll see you through it. 
If you are true to your resolve, for the next six days, 
I will hold these wretches silent. I will protect your 
imposture with the strong arm of the law. I don't 
like your theories, sir; but I believe you to be well- 
meaning, and I know you to be brave and honest. 

Oakhurst [grasping his hand]. I shall not forget this 
But Sandy — 

Capper. I will put my men on his track, and have 
him brought quietly here. I can give you no aid be 
yond that. As an honorable man, I need not tell you 
your duty. Settle it with him as best you can. 



TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. Ill 

Odkhurst. You are right; I will see him! [Aside.} 
Unless he has changed, he will listen to me, he will 
obey me. 

Capper. Hush! [Blows out candle.'] Stand here! 

Capper and Oakhurst retreat to wing l., as enter 
Morton, sen. , from room r. 

Morton. The private door open, the room dark, and 
Capper gone. I don't like this. The more I think of 
the mystery of that man's manner this morning, the 
more it seems to hide some terrible secret I must 
fathom! There are watches here. [Strikes a light, as 
Capper draws Oakhurst, struggling, back into shadow.'] 
What's this ? [Picking up key.] The key of the vault. 
A chair overturned. [Touches bell] No answer! 
Jackson gone ! My God ! A terrible suspicion haunts 
me! No.. Hush! [Retreats to private room R., as door 

of l. opens and — 

Enter Sandy. 

Sandy [drunkenhj]. Shoo! Shoo! boys, whar are 
ye, boys, eh? Pritchard, Silky, Soapy! Whar ar ye, 
boys ? 

Morton [aside]. A crime has been committed, and 
] iere is one of the gang. God has delivered him in my 
hands. [Draws revolver, and fires, as Oakhurst breaks 
from Capper, and strikes up Morton's pistol. Capper 
at same moment seizes Sandy, and drags Mm in room 
L. Morton and Oakhurst struggle to centre. 

Morton [relaxing hold of Oakhurst], Alexander! 
Good God! Why are you here? Why have you 
stepped between me and retribution? You hesitate; 



112 TWO MEN OP SANDY BAR. 

God in heaven! Speak, Alexander, my son, speak foi 
God's sake! Tell me — tell me that this detective's 
suspicions are not true. Tell me that you are not — 
not — no, I cannot say it. Speak, Alexander Morton, 
I command you ! Who is this man you have saved ? 
Is it — is it — your accomplice ? 

Oakliurst [sinking at his feet]. Don't ask me! You 
know not what you ask ! 1 implore you — 

Capper [appearing quietly from room l. , and locking 
the door behind him]. Your son has acted under my 
orders. The man he has saved, as he has saved you, 
was a decoy, — one of my policemen. 



TABLEAU. 

Capper, Morton, Oakhurst. 

[Curtain."] 

un> of act m. 



TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. 113 



ACT IV. 

Scene 1. — Mr. Morton's villa, Russian Hill. 
Night. Oakhurst's bedroom. Sofa in alcove c, 
door in fiat left of c. Sandy Morton discovered, 
unconscious, lying on sofa; Oakhurst standing at 
his head, two policemen at his feet. Candles on 
table l. 

Oakhurst. That will do. You are sure he was un- 
conscious as you brought him in ? 

Is* Policeman. Sure, sir? He hasn't known any- 
thing since we picked him up on the sidewalk outside 
the bank. 

Oakhurst. Good! You have fulfilled your orders 
well, and your chief shall know it. Go now. Be as 
cautious in going out as you were on entering. Here 
is the private staircase. [Opens door l.] 

[Exit policemen. 
Oakhurst [listening]. Gone! and without disturbing 
any one. So far, luck has befriended me. He will 
sleep to-night beneath his father's roof. His father! 
umph! would the old man recognize him here? 
Would he take to his heart this drunken outcast, 
picked from the gutters of the street, and brought 
here by the strong arm of the law ? Hush ! [A knock 
without] Ah, it is the colonel: he is prompt to the 
hour. [Opens door cautiously, and admits Col. Star- 
bottle.] 



114 TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. 

Starbottle [looking around,, and overlooking Sandy]. 
I presume the other — er — principal is not yet on the 
ground ? 

Oakhurst [motioning to sofa"]. He is ! 

Starbottle [starting as he looks towards sofa"]. Ged 
You don't mean to say it's all over, without witnesses, 
without my — er — presence ? 

Oakhurst. Pardon me, Col. Starbottle ; but, if you 
look again, you will perceive that the gentleman is 
only drunk. 

Starbottle. Eh? Ged! not uncommon, sir, not un- 
common ! I remember singular incident at — er — 
Louisville in '47. Old Judge Tollim — know old 
Judge Tolly? — Ged! he came to ground drunk, sir; 
couldn't stand! Demn me, sir, had to put him into 
position with kitchen poker down his back, and two 
sections of lightning-rod in his — er — trousers, demn 
me! Firm, sir, firm, you understand, here [strik- 
ing his breast], but — here [striking his legs] — er — er 
— wobbly! No, sir! Intoxication of principal not 
a bar, sir, to personal satisfaction! [Goes toward sofa 
with eyeglass.] Good Ged! why, it's Diego! [Re- 
turning stiffly to Oakhurst.] Excuse me, sir, but this 
is a case in which I cannot act. Cannot, sir, — im- 
possible ! absurd! pre — post — er — ous ! I recog- 
nize in the — er — inebriated menial on yonder sofa, 
a person, sir, who, having already declined my personal 
challenge, is — er — excluded from the consideration 
of gentlemen. The person who lies there, sir, is 
Diego, — a menial of Don Jose Castro, — aliat 
u Sandy," the vagabond of Red Gulch. 



TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. 115 

Oakliurst. You have omitted one title, his true one. 
He is Alexander Morton, the son of the master of this 
house. 

Starbottle [starting in bewilderment], Alexander Mor- 
ton ! [Aside.] Ged ! my first suspicions were correct. 
Star, you have lost the opportunity of making your 
fortune as a scoundrel; but you have, at a pecuniary 
Bacrifice, preserved your honor. 

Oakliurst. Yes. Hear me, Col. Starbottle. I have 
summoned you here to-night, as I have already inti- 
mated,, on an affair of honor. I have sought you as 
my father's legal counsel, as a disinterested witness, 
as a gentleman of honor. The man who lies before 
you was once my friend and partner. I have wronged 
him doubly. As his partner, I ran away with the 
woman he believed, and still believes, to be his wife; 
as his friend, I have for a twelvemonth kept him from 
the enjoyment of his home, his patrimony, by a shame- 
ful deception. I have summoned you to-night to 
witness my confession; as a lawyer, to arrange those 
details necessary to restore to him his property; as a 
man of honor, to receive from me whatever retribution 
he demands. You will be a witness to our interview. 
Whatever befalls me here, you will explain to Mr. 
Morton — to Jo vita — that I accepted it as a man, and 
did not avoidj here or elsewhere, the penalty of my 
crime. [Folding his arms.] 

Starbottle. Umph! The case is, as you say, a deli- 
cate one, but not — not- — peculiar. No, sir! Ged, 
sir, I remember Tom Marshall — know Tom Marshall 
of Kentucky? — said to Dae, " Star ! " — always calls 



116 TWO MEN OP SANDY BAR. 

me Star, — "how in blank, sir, can you remember 
the real names of your clients? " — " Why," says I, 
4 'Tom," — always called him Tom, — "yesterday I 
was called to make will — most distinguished family 
of Virginia — as lawyer and gentleman, you under- 
stand: can't mention name. Waited for signature 

— most distinguished name: Ged, sir, man signed 
Bloggins, — Peter Bloggins. Fact, demme! 'Mis- 
take,' I said, — 'excitement; exaltation of fever. 
Non compos. Compose yourself, Bob.' — ' Star,' he 
said, — always called me Star, — ' for forty-seven 
years I have been an impostor ! ' — his very words, 
sir. ' I am not ' — you understand : ' I am Peter 
Bloggins 1 ' " 

Oakhurst. But, my dear colonel, I — 

Starbottle [loftily']. Say no more, sir ! I accept the 

— er — position. Let us see ! The gentleman will, 
on recognition, probably make a personal attack. You 
are armed. Ah, no ? Umph ! On reflection I would 
not permit him to strike a single blow: I would anti- 
cipate it. It will provoke the challenge from him, 
leaving you, sir, the — er — choice of weapons. 

OaJcliurst. Hush ! he is moving ! Take your stand 
here, in this alcove. Remember, as a gentleman, and 
a man of honor, Col. Starbottle, I trust you not to 
interfere between the injured man and — justice! 
[Pushes Col. Starbottle into alcove behind couch, 
and approaches Sandy.] 

Sandy [waking slowly — and incoherently']. Hush 
Silky! Hush! Eh? Oh, hush yourself ! [Sings.} 



TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. 117 

Oh, yer's yer Sandy Morton, 
Drink Mm clown ! 

Eh ! Oh ! [Half sits up on couch. .] Eh ! [Looking 
around him] Where the devil am I? 

Odkhurst [advancing and leaning over Sandy's couch]. 
In the house of your father, Alexander Morton. 

Sandy [recoiling in astonishment]. His voice, John 
Oakhurst ! What — ah ! [Rises, and rushes towards 
Oakhurst with uplifted hand.'] 

Starbottle [gesticulating in whisper]. A blow ! a sin- 
gle blow would be sufficient. 

Sandy [looking at Oakhurst, who regards him calm- 
ly]. I — eh! I — eh! Ha, ha! I'm glad to see — 
old pard ! I'm glad to see ye ! [Col. Starbottle 
lifts his hand in amazement] 

Oakhurst [declining his hand]. Do you understand 
me, Sandy Morton? Listen. I am John Oakhurst, 
— the man who has deceived your father, who has 
deceived you. 

Sandy [without heeding his ivords, but regarding him 
affectionately]. To think of it — Jack Oakhurst ! It's 
like him, like Jack. He was allers onsartain, the 
darned little cuss ! Jackl Look at him, will ye, 
boys ? look, at him ! Growed too, and dressed to 
kill, and sittin' in this yer house as natril as a jay- 
bird! [Looking around.] Nasty, ain't it, Jack? and 
this yer's your house —the old man's house — eh? 
Why, this is — this is where she came. Jack, Jack 1 
[Eagerly.] Tell me, pard, — where is she? 

Starbottle [aside, rubbing his hands]. We shall have 
Lt now ! 



118 TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. 

Oakhurst. She has gone, — gone ! But hear me . 
She had deceived you as she has me. She has gone, 
— gone with her first husband, Henry Pritchard. 

Sandy [stupefied]. Gone ! Her first husband! Prit- 
chard I 

Oakhurst. Ay, your wife ! 

Sandy. Oh, damn my wife ! I'm talking of Mary, 
—•Miss Mary, — the little schoolma'am, Jack; the 
little rose of Poker Flat. Oh! I see — ye didn't 
know her, Jack, — the pertiest, sweetest little — 

Oakhurst [turning away coldly]. Ay, ayl She is 
here! 

Sandy [looking after him affectionately]. Look at 
him, boys ! Allers the same, — high-toned, cold, 
even to his pardner ! That's him, — Jack Oakhurst ! 
But Jack, Jack, you're goin' to shake hands, ain't 
ye? [Extends his hand, after a pause. Oakhurst 
takes it gloomily. ] 

Col. Starbottle [who has been regarding interview with 
visible scorn and disgust, advancing to Oakhurst]. You 
will — er — pardon me if, under the — er — circum- 
stances, I withdraw from this — er — disgraceful pro- 
ceeding. The condonation, by that man, of two of 
the most tremendous offences to society and to the 
code, without apology or satisfaction, Ged, sir, is — 
er-— er — of itself an insult to the spectator. I go, 
sir — 

Oakhurst. But, Col. Starbottle — 

Starbottle. Permit me to say, sir, that I hold my- 
self for this, sir, responsible, sir, — personally re» 
Bponsible. 



TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. 119 

[Exit Starbottle, glancing furiously at Sandy, who 
sinks on sofa laughing.'] 
Oalchurst [aside]. He will change his mind in hali 
an hour. But, in the mean time, time is precious. 
[Aloud. ] Sandy, come! 

Sandy [rising with alacrity}. Yes, Jack, I'm ready. 
Oalchurst. We are going [slowly and solemnly] — we 
are going to see your father. 

Sandy [dropping lack with bashful embarrassment, and 
struggling to release his arm from Oakhurst]. No, 
Jack 1 Not just yet, Jack ; in a little while, ole boy ! 
iu about six months, or mebbe — a year, Jack ! not 
now, not now ! I ain't feelin' exactly well, Jack, — I 
ain't. 

Oakhurst. Nonsense, Sandy ! Consider your duty 
and my honor. 

Sandy [regaining his seat]. That's all very well, 
Jack ; but ye see, pard, you've known the old man for 
nigh on a year, and it's twenty-five since I met him. 
No, Jack ; you don't play any ole man on to me to- 
night, Jack. No, you and me'll just drop out for a 
pasear. Jack, eh? [Taking Oakhurst's arm.] Come! 
Oakhurst. Impossible ! Hush ! [Listening.] It ia 
he passing through the corridor. [Goes to wing R., 
end listens.] 

Sandy [crowding hastily behind Oakhurst in alarm]. 
But, I say, Jack ! he won't come in here? He's goin' 
to bed, you know. Eh? It ain't right for a man o' 
his years — and he must be goin' on ninety, Jack— to 
be up like this. It ain't healthy. 
Oakhurst. You know kirn not. He seems to need 



120 TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. 

no rest [sadly]. Night after night, long after the ser- 
vants are abed, and the house is still, I hear that step 
slowly pacing the corridor. It is the last sound as 1 
close my eyes, the first challenge of the morning. 

Sandy. The ol' scound — [checking himself] — I 
mean, Jack, the ol' man has suthin' on his mind. But, 
Jack [in great alarm], he don't waltz in upon ye, Jack? 
He don't p'int them feet in yer, Jack? Ye ain't got 
to put up with that, Jack, along o' yer other trials ? 

OaJcJmrst. He often seeks me here. Ah — yes — he 
is coming this way now. 

Sandy [in ludicrous terror]. Jack, pard, quick ! 
hide me somewhere, Jack ! 

OaJchurst [opening door r.]. In there, quick ! Not a 
sound, as you value your future ! 

[Exit Sandy hurriedly r. 

Scene 2. — The Same. Enter door r., Old Morton, 
in dressing-gown, with candle. 

Old Morton. Not abed yet, Alexander? Well, 
well, I don't blame you, my son: it has been for you 
a trying, trying night. Yes, I see: like me, you are a 
little nervous and wakeful. [Slowly takes chair, and 
comfortably composes himself] 

OaJchurst [aside]. He is in for a midnight gossip. 
How shall I dispose of Sandy ? 

Old Morton. Yes [meditatively], — yes, you have 
overworked lately. Never mind. In a day or two 
more you shall have a vacation, sir, — a vacation ! 

OaJchurst [aside]. He knows not how truly he speaks. 
lAloud.] Yes, sir, I was still up. I have only jus' 
Uow dismissed the policemen. 



TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. 121 

Old Morton. Ay. I heard voices, and saw a light 
in your window. I came to tell you, Alexander, 
Capper has explained all about — about the decoy ! 
More ; he has told me of your courage and your in- 
valuable assistance. For a moment, sir, — I don't 
mind telling you now in confidence, — I doubted you — 

Oakhurst [in feigned deprecation]. Oh, sir ! 

Old Morton. Only for a moment. You will find, 
Alexander, that even that doubt shall have full apology 
when the year of your probation has expired. Besides, 
sir, I know all. 

Oakhurst [starting"]. All! 

Old Morton. Yes, the story about the Duchess and 
your child. You are surprised. Col. Starbottle told 
me all. I forgive you, Alexander, for the sake of your 
boy. 

Oakhurst. My boy, sir ! 

Old Morton. Yes, your boy. And let me tell you, 
sir, he's a fine young fellow. Looks like you, — looks 
as you did when you were a boy. He's a Morton too, 
every inch of him, there's no denying that. No, sir. 
You may have changed ; but he — he — is the living 
image of my little Alexander. He took to me, too, — 
lifted his little arms — and — and — [Becomes affected, 
and leans his head in his hands.] 

Oakhurst [rising]. You are not well, sir. Let me 
lead you to your room. 

Old Morton. No ! It is nothing: a glass of water 
Alexander ! 

Oakhurst [aside]. He is very pale. The agitation 
pf the night has overcome him. [Goes to table r.] A 



122 TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. 

tittle spirits will revive him. [Pours from decanter in 
glass, and returns to Morton.~\ 

Old Morton [after drinking']. There was spirits in 
that water, Alexander. Five years ago, I vowed at 
yonr mother's grave to abandon the use of intoxicat- 
ing liquors. 

Oakhurst. Believe me, sir, my mother will forgive 
you. 

Old Morion. Doubtless. It has revived me. I am 
getting to be an old man, Aleck. [Holds out Jiis glass 
half unconsciously, and Oakhurst replenishes it from 
decanter.'] Yes, an old man, Aleck; but the boy, — 
ah, I live again in him. The little rascal! He asked 
me, Aleck, for a " chaw tobacker! " and wanted to 
know if I was the "ol' duffer." Ha, ha! He did. 
Ha, ha! Come, come, don't be despondent. I was 
like you once, damn it, — ahem — it's all for the best, 
my boy, all for the best. I'll take the young rascal 
[aside] — damn it, he's already taken me — [aloud] 
on equal terms. There, Aleck, what do you say? 

Oakhurst. Really, sir, this forbearance, — this 
kindness — [aside] I see a ray -of light. 

Old Morton. Nonsense ! I'll take the boy, I tell 
you, and do well for him, — the little rascal! — as 
if he were the legal heir. But, I say, Aleck [laugh- 
ing], ha, ha! — what about — ha, ha! — what about 
Dona Jovita, eh? and what about Don Jose Castro, 
eh? How will the lady like a ready-made family, 
$h? [Poking Oakhurst in jie ribs.] What will th* 
Don say to the family succession? Ha, ha! 

Oakhurst [proudly]. Really, sir, I care but little. 



TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. 123 

Old Morton [aside]. Oh,- ho! I'll sound him 
[Aloud. ~\ Look ye, Alexander, I have given my word 
to you and Don Jose Castro, and I'll keep it. But if 
you can do any better, eh — if — eh ? — the school- 
ma'am's a mighty pretty girl and a bright one, eh, 
Aleck? And it's all in the family — eh? And she 
thinks well of you; and I will say, for a girl brought 
up as she's been, and knowin' your relations with 
the Duchess and the boy, to say a kind word for 
ye, Aleck, is a good sign, — you follow me, Aleck, — 
if you think — why, old Don Jose might whistle for a 
son-in-law, eh? 

Oakliurst [interrupting indignantly]. Sir ! [Aside."] 
Stop!. [Aloud.] Do you mean to say, sir, that if I 
should consent to this — suggestion — that, if the lady 
were willing, you would offer no impediment ? 

Old Morton. Impediment, my dear boy ! you 
should have my blessing. 

Oalcliurst. Pardon me a moment. You have in the 
last year, sir, taught me the importance of business 
formality in all the relations of life. Following that 
idea, the conditions of my engagement with Jovita 
Castro were drawn up with your hand. Are you will- 
ing to make this recantation as formal, this new con- 
tract as business-like and valid ? 

Old Morton [eagerly]. I am. 

Oakliurst. Then sit here, and write at my dictation. 
[Pointing to table l. Old Morton takes seat at table.] 
"In view of the evident preferences of my son Alex- 
ander Morton, and of certain family interests, I hereby 
revoke my consent to his marriage with the Dona tTo- 



124 TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. 

vita Castro, and accord him full permission to woo 
and win his cousin, Miss Mary Morris, promising him 
the same aid and assistance previously offered in his 
suit with Miss Castro." 

Old Morton [signing']. Alexander Morton, sen. 
There, Aleck ! You have forgotten one legal formal- 
ity. "We have no witness. Ha, ha ! 

Oakhurst [significantly']. I will be a sufficient wit- 
ness. 

Old Morton. Ha, ha ! [Fills glass from decanter, 
after which Oakhurst quietly removes decanter beyond 
his reach.] Very good! Aleck, I've been thinking of 
a plan, — I've been thinking of retiring from the 
bank. I'm getting old, and my ways are not the 
popular ways of business here. I've been thinking 
of you, you dog, — of leaving the bank to you, — to 
you, sir, — eh — the day — the day you marry the 
schoolma'am — eh. I'll stay home, and take care of 
the boy -»— eh — hie! The little rascal! — lifted his 
arms to me — did, Aleck! by God! [Incoherently.] 
Eh! 

Oakhurst. Hush! [Aside.] Sandy will overhear 
him, and appear. 

Old Morton [greatly affected by liquor]. Hush! eh! 
— of course — shoo! shoo! [The actor will here en- 
deavor to reproduce in Old Morton's drunken behavior, 
without exactly imitating him, the general characteristics 
of his son's intoxication.] Eh — I say, Aleck, old boy! 
what will the Don say ? eh ? Ha, ha, ha ! And Jo- 
yita, that firebrand, how will she — hie — like it, eh ? 
[Laughs immoderately.] 



TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. 125 

Oakhurst. Hush ! We will be overheard ! The ser- 
vants, sir ! 

Old Morton. Damn the servants! Don't I — hie — 
pay them wages — eh ? 

Oakhurst. Let me lead you to your own room. You 
are nervously excited. A little rest, sir, will do you 
good. [Taking his arm.'] 

Old Morton. No shir, no shir, 'm nerrer goin' to 
bed any more. Bed's bad habit! — hie — drunken 
habit. Lesh stay up all ni, Aleck ! You and me ! 
Lesh nev'r — go — bed any more ! Whar's whiskey — 
eh ? [Staggers to the table for decanter as Oakhurst 
seizes him, struggle up stage, and then Old Morton, in 
struggle, falls helplessly on sofa, in same attitude as 
Sandy was discovered."] 

Enter Sandy cautiously from door l. 

Sandy [to Oakhurst]. Jack! Eh, Jack — 

Oakhurst. Hush ! Go ! I will follow you in a 
moment. [Pushes him back to door l.] 

Sandy [catching sight of Old Morton]. Hallo ! 
What's up? 

Oakhurst. Nothing. He was overtaken with a 
sudden fain tness. He will revive presently: go! 

Sandy [hesitating]. I say, Jack, he wasn't taken 
sick along o' me, eh, Jack? 

Oakhurst. No! No! But go [pushing him toward 
door]. 

Sandy. Hold on: I'm going. But, Jack, I've got 
a kind of faintness yer, too. [Goes to side-table, and 
takes up decanter.] And thar's nothing reaches that 
faintness like whiskey. [Fills glass.] 



126 TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. 

Old Morton \_drunkenly and half-consciously from 
couch']. Whiskey — who shed — whiskey — eh? Eh 
— O — gim'me some, Aleck — Aleck, my son, — my 
son! — my old prodigal — Old Proddy, my boy — gim- 
me — whiskey — [sings'] — 

Oh, yer's yer sood old whiskey, 

Drink it down ! 

Eh ? I com — mand you — pass the whiskey ! 

Sandy, at first panic-stricken, and then remorsefully 
conscious, throws glass down, with gesture of fear and 
loathing. Oakhurst advances to his side hurriedly. 

Oakhurst [in hurried whisper]. Give him the whis- 
key, quick ! It will keep him quiet. [Is about to take 
decanter when Sandy seizes it: struggle with Oak- 
hurst.] 

Sandy [with feeling]. No, no, Jack, no ! [Suddenly, 
with great strength and determination, breaks from him, 
and throws decanter from window.] No, never ! 

Old Morton [struggling drunkenly to his feet]. Eh — ■ 
who sh'd never? [Oakhuest shoves Sandy in room 
l. , and follows him, closing door.] Eh, Aleck? [Grop- 
ing.] Eh, where'sh light? All gone. [Lapses on 
sofa again, after an ineffectual struggle to get up, and 
then resumes his old attitude.] 

[Change scene quickly.] 

Scene 3. — Ante-room in Mr. Morton's villa. From 
scene. Enter Don Jose Castro and Concho 
preceded by Servant, l. 

Servant. This way, gentlemen. 



TWO MEN OP SANDY BAR. 127 

Don Jose. Carry this card to Alexander Morton, 
gen. 

Servant. Beg pardon, sir, but there's only one 
name here, sir [looking at Concho]. 

Don Jose [proudly']. That is my servant, sir. 

[Exit Servant. 

Don Jose [aside]. I don't half like this business. 
But my money locked up in his bank, and my daugh- 
ter's hand bound to his son, demand it. [Aloud.] 
This is no child's play, Concho, you understand. 

Concho. Ah ! I am wise. Believe me, if I have not 
proofs which shall blanch the cheek of this old man, 
I am a fool, Don Jose - ! 

Re-enter Servant. 

Servant. Mr. Morton, sen., passed a bad night, and 
has left word not to be disturbed this morning. But 
Mr. Morton, jun., will attend you, sir. 

ConcJio [aside]. So the impostor will face it out. 
Well, let him come. 

Don Jose' [to Servant]. I wait his pleasure. 

[Exit Servant. 

Don Jose. You hear, Concho? You shall face 
this man. I shall repeat to him all you have told me. 
If you fail to make good your charge, on your head 
rests the consequences. 

ConcJio. He will of course deny. He is a desper- 
ate man: he will perhaps attack me. Eh! Ah I 
[Drawing revolver.] 

Don Jose. Put up your foolish weapon. The sight 
of the father he has deceived will be more terrible 
to him than the pistol of the spy. 



128 TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. 

Enter Col. Starbottle, c. 

Starbottle. Mr. Alexander Morton, jim., will be 
with yon in a moment. [Takes attitude by door, puts 
his hand in Ms breast, and inflates himself.'] 

Concho [to Don Jose, aside]. It is the bullying 
lawyer. They will try to outface us, my patron ; but 
we shall triumph. [Aloud.] He comes, eh! — Mr. 
Alexander Morton, gentlemen! I will show you a 
cheat, an impostor ! 

Enter, in correct, precise morning dress, Sandy Mor- 
ton. There is in his make-up and manner a sugges- 
tion of the father. 

Concho [recoiling, aside]. Diego! The real son* 
[Aloud, furiously.] It is a trick to defeat justice, — ■ 
eh ! — a miserable trick ! But it shall fail, it shall 
fail! 

Col. Starbottle. Permit me, a moment, — a single 
moment. [To Concho.] You have — er — er — 
characterized my introduction of this — er — gentle- 
man as a "cheat" and an "imposture." Are you 
prepared to deny that this is Alexander Morton? 

Don Jose [astonished, aside]. These Americanos are 
of the Devil! [Aloud and sternly.] Answer him, 
Concho, I command you. 

Concho [in half-insane rage]. It is Alexander Mor- 
ton; but it is a trick, — a cowardly trick! Where is 
the other impostor, this Mr. John Oakhurst ? 

Sandy [advancing with dignity and something of his 
father's cold manner]. He will answer for himself, 
when called for. [To Don Jose.] You have asked 
tor me, sir : may I inquire your business ? 



TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. 129 

Concho. Eh ! It is a trick, ^— a trick ! 

Don Jose [to Concho]. Silence, sir! [To Sandy, 
with dignity.'] I know not the meaning of this mas- 
querade. I only know that you are not the gentleman 
hitherto known to me as the son of Alexander Mor- 
ton. I am here, sir, to demand my rights as a man of 
property and a father. I have received this morning 
a check from the house of Morton & Son, for the 
amount of my deposit with them. So far — in view 
of this complication — it is well. Who knows? 
Bueno ! But the signature of Morton & Son to the 
check is not in the handwriting I have known. Look 
at it, sir. [To Sandy, handing check.'] 

Sandy [examining check]. It is my handwriting, sir, 
and was signed this morning. Has it been refused ? 

Don Jose. Pardon me, sir. It has not been pre- 
sented. With this doubt in my mind, I preferred to 
submit it first to you. 

Starbottle. A moment, a single moment, sir. While 
as a — er — gentleman and a man of honor, I — er — ■ 
appreciate your motives, permit me to say, sir, as a 
lawyer, that your visit is premature. On the testi- 
mony of your own witness, the identification of Mr. 
Alexander Morton, jun., is — er — complete; he has 
admitted the signature as his own ; you have not yet 
presented the check to the bank. 

Don Jose'. Pardon me, Col. Starbottle. It is not 
all. [To Sandy.] By a written agreement with Alex- 
ander Morton, sen., the hand of my daughter is prom- 
ised to his son, who now stands before me, as my 
former servant, dismissed from my service for drunk 
tnness. 



130 TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. 

Sandy. That agreement is revoked. 

Don Jose. Eevoked ! 

Sandy [handing paper]. Cast your eyes over that 
paper. At least you will recognize that signature. 

Don Jose [reads'] . "In view of the evident prefer- 
ences of my son Alexander Morton, and of certain 
family interests, I hereby rovoke my consent to his 
marriage with the Dona Jo vita Castro, and accord 
him full permission to woo and win his cousin, 
Miss Mary Morris ; promising him the same aid 
and assistance previously offered in his suit with 
Miss Castro. — Alexander Moeton, sen." 

Concho. Ah ! Carramba ! Do you not see the trick, 
— eh, the conspiracy? It was this man, as Diego, 
your daughter's groom, helped his friend Mr. Oak- 
hurst to the heiress. Ah, you comprehend! It was 
an old trick! You shall see, you shall see! Ah! 
I am wise, I am wise! 

Don Jose [aside]. Could I have been deceived? But 
no ! This paper that releases him gives the impostor 
no claim. 

Sandy [resuming his old easy manner, dropping his 
formality, and placing his hand on Don Jose's shoul- 
aer]. Look yar, ole man: I didn't allow to ever see 
ye agin, and this yer ain't none o' my seekin'. But, 
since yer here, I don't mind tellin' ye that but for me 
that gal of yours would have run away a year ago, 
and married an unknown lover. And I don't mind 
adding, that, hed I known that unknown lover was mj? 
friend John Oakhurst, I'd have helped her do it 
[Going. 1 Good-morning, Don Jose'. 



TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. 131 

Don Jose. Insolent ! I shall expect an account for 
Ihis from your — father, sir. 

Sandy. Adios, Don Jose. [Exit c. 

Concho. It is a trick — I told you. Ah, I am wisej 
[Going to Don Jose.] 

Don Jose [throwing him off ~\. Fool! [Exit Don Jose. 

Concho [infuriated]. Eh! Fool yourself — dotard! 
No matter: I will expose all — ah! I will see Jovita; 
■— I will revenge myself on this impostor! [Is about to 
follow, when Col. Starbottle leaves his position by the 
door, and touches Concho on the shoulder. - ] 

Starbottle. Excuse me. 

Concho. Eh? 

Starbottle. You have forgotten something. 

Concho. Something ? 

Starbottle. An apology, sir. You were good enough 
to express — er — incredulity — ■ when I presented Mr. 
Morton: you were kyind enough to characterize the 
conduct of my — er — principal by — an epithet. 
You have alluded to me, sir, — me — 

Concho [wrathfully~\. Bully! [Aside.] I have heard 
that this pomposo, this braggart, is a Yankee trick 
too; that he has the front of a lion, the liver of the 
chicken. [Aloud.] Yes, I have said, you hear I have 
said, I, Concho [striking his breast], have said you are 
a — bully! 

Starbottle [coolly]. Then you are prepared to give 
me satisfaction, sir, — personal satisfaction. 

Concho [raging]. Yes, sir, now — you understand, 
now [taking nut pistol], anywhere, here! Yes, herei 
4h! you start, — yes, here and now! Face to face, 



132 TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. 

you understand, without seconds, — face to face. So ' 
[Presenting pistol. ] 

Starbottle [quietly']. Permit me to — er — apologize. 

Concho. Ah ! It is too late ! 

Starbottle [interrupting']. Excuse me, but I feared 
ycu would not honor me so completely and satisfac- 
torily. Ged, sir, I begin to respect you! I accede to 
all your propositions of time and position. The 
pistol you hold in your hand is a derringer, I presume, 
loaded. Ah — er — I am right. The one I now pro- 
duce [showing pistol] is — er — as you will perceive 
the same size and pattern, and — er — unloaded. We 
will place them both, so, under the cloth of this 
table. You shall draw one pistol, I will take the other. 
I will put that clock at ten minutes to nine, when we 
will take our positions across this table ; as you — er 
happily express it, "face to face." As the clock 
strikes the hour, we will fire on the second stroke. 

Concho [aside]. It is a trick, a Yankee trick ! 
[Aloud.] I am ready. Now — at once ! 

Starbottle [gravely]. Permit me, sir, to thank you. 
Your conduct, sir, reminds me of singular incident — 

Concho [angrily interrupting]. Come, come ! It ia 
no child's play. We have much of this talk, eh! 
It is action, eh, you comprehend, — action. 

[Starbottle places pistols under the cloth, and sets 
dock. Concho draws pistol from cloth ; Starbottle 
lakes remaining pistol. Both men assume position, pre- 
senting their weapons ; Starbottle pompously but seri. 
oudy, Concho angrily and nervously.] 

Starbottle [after a pause]. One moment, a single 
moment — 



TWO MEN OF SANDF BAR. 133 

Concho. Ah, a trick ! Coward! you cannot destroy 
my aim. 

Starbottle. I overlook the — er — epithet. I wished 
only to ask, if you should be — er — unfortunate, if 
there was any thing I could say to your — er — friends. 

Concho. You cannot make the fool of me, coward. 
No! 

Starbottle. My object was only precautionary. Owing 
t ) the position in which you — er — persist in holding 
your weapon, in a line with my right eye, I perceive 
that a ray of light enters the nipple, and — er — illu- 
minates the barrel. I judge from this, that you have 
been unfortunate enough to draw the — er — er — un- 
loaded pistol. 

Concho [tremulously lowering weapon]. Eh! Ah ! 
This is murder ! [Drops pistol.'] Murder ! — eh — help 
[retreating], help! [Exit hurriedly door c, as clock 
strikes. Col. Starbottle lowers his pistol, and moves 
with great pomposity to the other side of the table, taking 
up pistol. 

Star-bottle [examining pistol]. Ah! [Lifts it, and dis- 
charges it.] It seems that I am mistaken. [Going.] 
The pistol was — er — loaded ! [Exit. 



Scene 4. — Front scene. Room in villa. Enter Miss 
Mary and Jovita. 

Miss Mary. I tell you, you are wrong. You are 
not only misunderstanding your lover, which is a 
woman's privilege; but you are abusing my cousin, 
which, as his relative, I won't put up with. 



134 TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. 

Jovita [passionately]. But hear me, Miss Mary. It 
is a year since we were betrothed; and such a be- 
trothal ! Why, I was signed, sealed, and delivered to 
him, on conditions, as if T were a part of the rancho; 
and the very night, too, I iiad engaged to run away 
with him ! And during that year I have seen the 
gentleman twice, — yes, twice ! 

Miss Mary. But he has written ? 

Jovita. Mother of God ! Yes, — letters delivered 
by my father, sent to his care, read by him first, of 
course; letters hoping that I was well, and obeying 
my father's commands; letters assuring me of his 
unaltered devotion; letters that, compared with the 
ones he used to hide in the confessional of the 
ruined mission church, were as ice to fire, were as 
that snow-flower you value so much, Mary, to this 
mariposa blossom I wear in my hair. And then to 
think that this man — this John Oakhurst, as I knew 
him; this man who used to ride twenty miles for a 
smile from me on the church porch; this Don Juan 
who leaped that garden wall (fifteen feet, Mary, if it 
is an inch), and made old Concho his stepping-stone; 
this man, who daily perilled death for my sake — is 
changed into this formal, methodical man of business — 
is — is — I tell you there's a woman at the bottom of 
it I I know it sure ! 

Miss Mary [aside"]. How can I tell her about the 
Duchess ? I won't ! [Aloud.] Bat listen, my dear 
Jovita. You know he is under probation for you, 
Jovita. All this is for you. His father is cold 
methodical, unsympathetic. He looks only to his bon J 



TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. 135 

with, this son, — this son that be treats, even in matters 
of the heart, as a business partner. Remember, on 
his complete reformation, and subjection to his father's 
will, depends your hand. Remember the agreement! 

Jovita. The agreement ; yes ! It is the agree- 
ment, always the agreement. May the Devil fly away 
with the agreement ! Look you, Miss Mary, I, Dona 
Jovita, didn't fall in love with an agreement: it was 
with a man ! Why, I might have married a dozen 
agreements — yes, of a shorter limitation than this ! 
[Crossing.'] 

Miss Mary. Yes. But what if your lover had failed 
to keep those promises by which he was to gain your 
hand ? what if he were a man incapable of self -con- 
trol? what if he were — a — a — drunkard ! 

Jovita [musing']. A drunkard ! [Aside.] There 
was Diego, he was a drunkard ; but he was faith- 
less. [Aloud.] You mean a weak, faithless drunk- 
ard? 

Miss Mary. No ! [Sadly.] Faithless only to him- 
self, but devoted — yes, devoted to you. 

Jovita. Miss Mary, I have found that one big vice 
in a man is apt to keep out a great many smaller 
pnes. 

Miss Mary. Yes ; but if he were a slave to liquor ? 

Jovita. My dear, I should try to change his mis- 
tress. Oh, give me a man that is capable of a devo- 
tion to any thing, rather than a cold, calculating 
average of all the virtues ! 

Miss Mary [aside]. I, who aspire to be her teacher, 
am only her pupil. [Aloud.] But what if, in this 



136 TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. 

rery drunkenness, this recklessness, he had once loved 
and worshipped another woman ? What if you dis- 
covered all this after — after ■ — he had won your 
heart ? 

Jovita. I should adore him ! Ah, Miss Mary ! 
Love differs from all the other contagious diseases : 
the last time a man is exposed to it, he takes it most 
readily, and has it the worst ! But you, you, you can- 
not sympathize with me. You have some lover, the 
ideal of the virtues ; some man as correct, as well 
regulated, as calm as — yourself ; some one who ad- 
dresses you in the fixed morality and severe penman- 
ship of the copy-books. He will never precipitate 
himself over a garden wall or through a window. 
Your Jacob will wait for you through seven years, 
and receive you from the hands of your cousin and 
guardian — as a reward of merit ! No, you could 
not love a vagabond. 

Miss Mary [very slowly and quietly']. No? 

Jovita. No! [Passionately.'] No, it is impossible. 
Forgive me, Miss Mary : you are good ; a better 
girl than I am. But think of me ! A year ago my 
lover leaped a wall at midnight to fly with me : to- 
day, the day that gives me to him, he writes a few 
cold lines, saying that he has business, business — you 
understand — business, and that he shall not see me 
until we meet in the presence of — of — of — our 
fathers. 

Miss Mary. Yes ; but you will see him at least, 
perhaps alone. Listen : it is no formal meeting, but 
one of festivity. My guardian has told me, in his 



TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. 137 

quaint scriptural way, it is the killing of the fatted 
calf, over his long-lost prodigal. Have patience, little 
one. Ah ! Jovita, we are of a different race, but we 
are of one sex ; and as a woman I know how to ac- 
cept another woman's abuse of her lover. Come, 
come ! [Exeunt Miss Mary and Jovita, 

Scene 5. — The drawing-room of Mr. Morton's villa. 
Large open arch in centre, leading to veranda, looking 
on distant view of San Francisco ; richly furnished, — 
sofas, arm-chairs, and tete-ct-tetes. Enter Col. Star- 
bottle, c, carrying bouquet, preceded by Servant, 
bowing. 

Starbottle. Take my kyard to Miss Morris. [Exit 
Servant.] 

Starbottle. Star ! This is the momentous epoch of. 
your life ! It is a moment for which you — are — I 
may say alone responsible, — personally responsible ! 
She will be naturally gratified by the — er — flowers. 
She will at once recognize this bouquet as a delicate 
souvenir of Red Gulch, and will appreciate your 
recollection. And the fact, the crushing fact, that 
you have overlooked the — er — ungentlemanly con- 
duct of her own cousin Sandy, the real Alexander 
Morton, that you have — er — assisted to restore the 
ex-vaquero to his rights, will — er — er — at once open 
the door to — er — mutual confidence and — er — a 
continuance of that — er — prepossession I have al 
ready noticed. Ahem ' here she is. 



138 TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. 

Enter Miss Mary in full dress. 

Miss Mary. You are early, Col. Starbottle. This 
promptitude does honor to our poor occasion. 

Col. Starbottle. Ged, Miss Mary, promptness with 
a lady and an adversary is the first duty of — er — ■ 
gentlemen. I wished that — er — the morning dew 
might still be — er — fresh in these flowers. I gath- 
ered them myself [presenting bouquet] at — er — er — 
flower-stand in the — er — California market. 

Miss Mary [aside]. Flowers! I needed no such 
reminder of poor Sandy. [Aloud.] I thank you, 
colonel. 

Starbottle. Ged, ma'am, I am repaid doubly. 
Your conduct, Miss Mary, reminds me of little in- 
cident that occurred at Richmond, in '53. Dinner- 
party — came early — but obliged to go — as now — 
on important business, before dessert — before des- 
sert. Lady sat next to me — beautiful woman — 
excuse me if I don't mention names — said to me, 
"Star," — always called me Star, — "Star, you 
remind me of the month of May." — " Ged, madam, " 

— I said, "delighted, proud; but why?" — "Be- 
cause, " she said, "you come in with the — er — 
oysters" — No! Ged, pardon me — ridiculous mis- 
take ! I mean — er — " you come in with the — er 

— flowers, and go before the — er — fruits." 

Miss Mary. Ah, colonel ! I appreciate her disap 
pointment. Let us hope, however, that some day 
you may find that happy woman who will be able 
to keep you through the whole dinner and the whole 
season, until December and the ices 1 



TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. 13& 

Starbottle. Ged! excellent! Capital! [Serkrusly.] 
Miss Mary! [Suddenly inflating his chest, striking at- 
tituds, and gazing on Miss Mary with languishing eyes. 
There is — er — such a woman I 
Miss Mary [aside]. What can he mean? 
Starbottle [taking seat beside her]. Allow me, Miss 
Mary, a few moments of confidential — er — confi- 
dential disclosure. To-day is, as you are aware — 
the day on which, according to — er — agreement be- 
tween parties, my friend and client Mr. Morton, sen., 
— formally accepts his prodigal son. It is my — 
er — duty to state that — er — the gentleman who has 
for the past year occupied that position has behaved 
with great discretion, and — er — f ulfilled his part of 
the — er — agreement. But it would — er — appear 
that there has been a — er — slight delusion regard- 
ing the identity of that prodigal, —a delusion shared 
by all the parties except, perhaps, myself. I have 
to prepare you for a shock. The gentleman whom 
yon have recently known as Alexander Morton, jun., 
is not the prodigal son; is not your — er — cousin ; 
is, in fact, no relation to you. Prepare yourself, 
Miss Mary, for a little disappointment, —for — er 
— degradation. The genuine son has been — er — 
discovered in the person of — er — low menial— er — 
vagabond, — "Sandy," the — er — outcast of Bed 
Gulch ! 

Miss Mary [rising in astonishment ]. Sandy ! Then 
be was right. [Aside.] The child is his! and that 
woman — 

Starbottle. Compose yourself, Miss Mary. 1 



140 TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. 

know the - - er — effect of — er — revelation like thia 
upon — er — proud and aristocratic nature. Ged 1 
My own, I assure you, beats in — er — responsive 
indignation. You can never consent to remain be- 
neath this roof, and — er — receive a — er — vaga- 
bond and — er — menial on equal terms. The — ei 

— necessities of my — er — profession may — er — 
compel me; but you — er — never! Holding myself 

— er — er — responsible for having introduced you 
here, it is my — er — duty to provide you with — 
another home! It is my — er — duty to protect — 

Miss Mary [aside]. Sandy here, and beneath thia 
roof! Why has he not sought me? Ah, I know too 
well: he dare not face me with his child! 

Starbottle [aside]. She turns away! it is maiden 
coyness. [Aloud.] If, Miss Mary, the — er — devo- 
tion of a life-time; if the — er — chivalrous and re- 
spectful adoration of a man — er — whose record is 

— er — not unknown in the Court of Honor [drop- 
ping on one knee with excessive gallantry] ; if the — er 

— measure — 

Miss Mary [oblivious of Col. Starbottle]. I wiL 

— I must see him! Ah! [looking l.] he is coming I 

Enter Sandy. 

Starbottle [rising with great readiness and tact]. I 
have found it [presenting flower]. It had fallen be- 
neath the sofa. 

Sandy [to Miss Mary, stopping short in embarrass-' 
*tent]. I did not know you — I— I — thought therf 
was no one here. 



TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. 141 

Mis.; Mary [to Starbottle]. May I ask you to 
excuse me for a moment? I have a few words to say 
to — to my cousin ! 

Staebottle bows gallantly to Miss Mary, and stiffly 
to Sandy, and exit r. A long pause ; Miss Mary 
remains seated pulling jloiuers, Sandy remains stand- 
ing by wing, foolish and embarrassed. Business. 

Miss Mary [impatiently']. Well? 

Sandy [slowly']. I axes your pardon, miss ; but 
you told that gentleman you had a few words — to say 
to me. 

Miss Mary [passionately, aside] Fool! [Aloud.] 
I had ; but I am waiting to first answer your inquiries 
about your — your — child. I have fulfilled my trust, 
gir. 

Sandy. You have, Miss Mary, and I thank you. 

Miss Mury. I might perhaps have expected that 
this revelation of our kinship would have come from 
other lips than a stranger's ; but — no matter ! I 
wish you joy, sir, of your heritage. [Going.] You 
have found a home, sir, at last, for yourself and - - and 
— your child. Good-day, sir. 

Sandy. Miss Mary ! 

Miss Mary. I must make ready to receive your 
father's guests. It is his orders : I am only his poor 
relation. Good-by, sir. [Exit l. 

Sandy [watching her]. She is gone! — gone! No! 
She has dropped on the sofa in the ante-room, and is 
crying. Crying ! I promised Jack I wouldn't speak 
until the time came. Ill go back. [Hesitating, and 



142 TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. 

looking toward l.] Poor girl ! How she must hate 
me! I might just say a word, one word to thank her 
for her kindness to Johnny, — only one word, and then 
go away. I — I — can keep from liquor. I swore I 
would to Jack, that night I saw the old man — drunk, 
— and I have. But — I can't keep — from — her i 
No — damn it ! [ Going toward l . ] No ! — I'll go ! 

[Exit L. 

Enter hurriedly and excitedly Jo vita r., followed by 
Manuel a. 

Jovita. Where is she ? Where is he? — the traitor 1 

Manuela [entreatingly~]. Compose yourself, Dona 
Jovita, for the love of God ! This is madness : 
believe me, there is some mistake. It is some trick 
of an enemy, — of that ingrate, that coyote, Concho, 
who hates the Don Alexandro. 

Jovita. A trick 1 Call you this a trick? Look at 
this paper, put into my hands by my father a mo- 
ment ago. Read it. Ah ! listen. [Reads.] "In view 
of the evident preferences of my son Alexander Morton, 
I hereby revoke my consent to his marriage with the 
Dona Jovita Castro, and accord him full permission tc 
woo and win his cousin, Miss Mary Morris!" Call 
you this a trick, eh? No, it is their perfidy ! This is 
why she was brought here on the eve of my betrothal. 
This accounts for his silence, his absence. Oh, I 
Bhall go mad ! 

Manuela. Compose yourself, miss. If I am not 
received, there is one here who will aid us, — who 
*vill expose this deceit. Listen : an hour ago, as 



TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. 143 

passed through the hall, I saw Diego, our old Diego, 
— your friend and confidant, Diego. 

Jovita. The drunkard — the faithless Diego ! 

Manuela. Never, Miss Jovita ; not drunken ! For, 
as he passed before me, he was as straight, as upright, 
as fine as your lover. Corne, miss, we will seek him. 

Jovita. Never! He, too, is a traitor. 

Manuela. Believe me, no! Come, Miss Jovita. 
[Looking toward l.] See, he is there. Some one ia 
with him. 

Jovita [looking']. You are right ; and it is she — 
she, Miss Mary ! What? he is kissing her hand 1 and 
she — she, the double traitress — drops her head upon 
his shoulder ! Oh, this is infamy! 

Manuela. Hush ! Some one is coming. The guests 
are arriving. They must not see you thus. This way, 
Miss Jovita, — this way. After a little, a little, the 
mystery will be explained. [ Taking Jo vita's hand, 
and leading her r.] 

Jovita [going]. And this was the correct schoolmis- 
tress, the preceptress and example of all the virtues ! 
ha ! [laughing hysterically] ha I 

[Exeunt Jovita and Manuela. 



Scene 6. — The same. Enter Servant; opens folding- 
doors c. , revealing veranda, and view of distant city 
beyond. Stage, fog effect from without. Enter Star- 
bottle and Oakhurst, r., in full evening dress. 

Starbottle [ivalking toivards veranda]. A foggy even- 
ing for our anniversary. 



144 TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. 

Oakhurst Yes. [Aside.] It was such a night as 
this I first stepped into Sandy's place, I first met the 
old man. Well, it will be soon over. [Aloud.] You 
have the papers and transfers all ready? 

Starbottle. In my — er — pocket. Mr. Morton, 
sen. , should be here to receive his guests. 

Oakhurst. He will be here presently: until then 
the duty devolves on me. He has secluded himself even 
from me ! [Aside.'] Perhaps it is in very shame for 
his recent weakness. 

Enter Servant. 

Servant. Don Jose Castro, Miss Castro, and Miss 
Morris. 

Enter Don Jose with Jovita and Miss Mary on 

either arm. All formally salute Mr. Oakhurst, ex- 
cept Miss Jovita, who turns coldly away, taking seat 
remotely on sofa. Col. Starbottle gallantly ap- 
proaches Miss Mary, and takes seat beside her. 

Oakhurst [aside']. They are here to see my punish- 
ment. There is no sympathy even in her eyes. 

Enter Servant. 

Servant. Mr. Concepcion Garcia and Mr. Capper. 

Concho [approaching Oakhurst, rubbing his hands']. 
I wish you joy, Mr. Alexander Morton! 

Oakhurst [excitedly, aside]. Shall I throw him from 
me window! The dog! — even he! 

Capper [approaching Mr. Oakhurst]. You have 
done well. Be bold. / will see you through. As for 



TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. 145 

that man [pointing to Concho], leave him to me I [Lays 
his hand on Concho's shoulder, and leads him to sofa 
r. Oakhurst takes seat in chair l. as Sandy enters 
quietly from door l., and stands leaning upon his chair. 

Starbottle [rising]. Ladies and gentlemen, we are 
waiting only for the presence of Mr. Alexander Mor- 
ton, sen. 1 regret to say that for the last twenty -four 
hours — he has been — er — exceedingly pre-occnpied 
with the momentous cares of the — er — occasion. 
You who know the austere habits of my friend and — 
er — client will probably understand that he may be 
at this very moment engaged in prayerful and Chris- 
tian meditation, invoking the Throne of Grace, pre- 
vious to the solemn duties of — er — er — to-night. 

Enter Servant. 
Servant. Mr. Alexander Morton, sen. 

Enter Old Morton, drunk, in evening costume, cravat 
awry, coat half buttoned up, and half surly, half idiotic 
manner. All rise in astonishment. Sandy starts for- 
ward. Oakhurst pulls him back. 

Morton [thickly]. Don't rish! Don't rish! We'll 
all sit downl How do you do, sir? I wish ye well, 
miss. [Goes around and laboriously shakes hands with 
everybody.] Now lesh all take a drink! lesh you take 
a drink, and you take a drink, and you take a drink! 

Starbottle. Permit me, ladies and gentlemen, to — 
er — explain: our friend is — er — evidently laboring 
under — er — er — accident of hospitality I In a mo- 
ment he will be himself. 



146 TWO MEN OP SANDY BAR. 

Old Morton. Hush up! Dry up — yourself — old 
turkey-cock ! Eh ! 

Sandy [despairingly]. He will not understand us 1 
[To Starbottle.] He will not know me 1 What is 
to be done ? 

Old Morton. Give me some whishkey. Lesh all 
take a drink! [Enter Servant with decanter and 
glasses.] 

Old Morton [starting forward], Lesh all take a 
drink 1 

Sandy. Stop ! 

Old Morton [recovering himself slightly]. Who says 
stop? Who dares countermand my orderish? 

Concho [coming forward]. Who ? I will tell you : 
eh ! eh ! Diego — dismissed from the rancho of Don 
Jose for drunkenness! Sandy — the vagabond of Red 
Gulch! 

Sandy [passionately seizing Old Morton's arm]. 
Yes, Diego — Sandy — the outcast — but, God help 
me! no longer the drunkard. I forbid you to touch 
that glass! — I, your son, Alexander Morton! Yes, 
look at me, father : I, with drunkenness in my blood, 
planted by you, fostered by you — I whom you sought 
to save — I — I, stand here to save you! Gol [To 
Servant.] Go ! While he is thus, I — /, am master 
here ! 

Old Morton [cowed and frightened]. That voice 
[Passing his hand over his forehead.] Am I dreaming ? 
Aleck, where are you? Alexander, speak, I com* 
tnand you : is this the truth ? 

Oakhurst [slowly]. It is! 



TWO MEN OP SANDY BAR. 147 

Starbottle. One moment — a single moment : per- 
mit me to — er — er — explain. The gentleman who 
nas just — er — dismissed the refreshment is, to the 
best of my legal knowledge, your son. The gentle- 
man who for the past year has so admirably filled the 
functions of that office is — er — prepared to admit 
this. The proofs are — er — conclusive. It is with 
the — er — intention of offering them, and — er — 
returning your lawful heir, that we — -er — are here 
to-night. 

Old Morton [rising to his feet]. And I renounce you 
both ! Out of my house, out of my sight, out of my 
heart, forever! Go! liars, swindlers, confederates! 
Drunk — 

Oakliurst [retiring slowly with Sandy]. We are 
going, sir I 

Old Morton. Go t open the doors there wide, wide 
enough for such a breadth of infamy ! Do you hear 
me? i" am master here! 

Stands erect, as Oakhtjrst and Sandy, hand in hand, 
slowly retreat backward to centre, — then suddenly utters 
a cry, and falls heavily on sofa. Both pause : Oak- 
hurst remains quiet and motionless; Sandy, after a 
moment's hesitation, rushes forward, and falls at his 
feet. 

Sandy. Father, forgive me! 

Old Morton [putting his hand round Sandy's neck, 
and motioning him to door]. Go! both of you, both 
©f you! [Resisting Sandy's attempt to rise.] Did you 
hear me ? Go ! 



148 TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. 

Starboltle. Permit me to — explain. Your conduct, 
Mr. Morton, reminds me of sing'lar incident in '47 — 

Old Morton. Silence ! 

Oakliurst. One word, Mr. Morton! Shamed and 
disgraced as I am, I leave this roof more gladly 
than I entered it. How I came here, you best know. 
How I yielded madly to the temptation, the promise 
of a better life; how I fell, through the hope of 
reformation, — no one should know better than you, 
sir, the reformer. I do not ask your pardon. You 
know that I did my duty to you as your presumed son. 
Your real son will bear witness, that, from the hour I 
knew of his existence, I did my duty equally to him. 
Col. Starbottle has all the legal transfers and papers 
necessary to make the restoration of your son — the 
integrity of your business name — complete. I take 
nothing out of this life that I did not bring in it, — 
except my self-respect ! I go — as I came — alone ! 

Jovita [rushing towards him]. No! no! You shall 
take me! I have wronged you, Jack, cruelly; I 
have doubted you; but you shall not go alone. I 
care not for this contract! You are more to me, by 
your own right, Jack, than by any kinship with such 
as these! 

Oakliurst [raising her gently]. I thank you, darling. 
But it is too late now. To be more worthy of you, 
to win you, I waived the title I had to you in my own 
manhood, to borrow another's more legal claim. T 
who would not win you as a gambler, cannot make 
you now the wife of a convicted impostor. No ! Heal 
me, darling! do not make my disgrace greater than 



TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. 149 

jfc is. In the years to come, Jovita, think of me as one 
who loved you well enough to go through shame to 
win you, but too well to ask you to share with him 
that shame. Farewell, darling, farewell! [Releases 
himself from Jo vita's arms, who falls beside him.'] 

Concho [rubbing his hands, and standing before him]. 
Oho! Mr. John Oakhurst — eh — was it for this, eh 

you leaped the garden wall, eh ? was it for this 

you struck me down, eh ? You are not wise, eh? 
You should have run away with the Dona when you 
could — ah, ah, impostor! 

Sandy [leaping to his feet]. Jack, you shall not go! 
I will go with you! 

Oakhurst. No ! Your place is there. [Pointing to 
Old Morton, whose head has sunk drunkenly on his 
breast.] Heed not this man ; his tongue carries only 
the borrowed lash of his master. 

Concho. Eh! you are bold now — bold ; but I said 
I would have revenge — ah, revenge ! 

Sandy [rushing towards him]. Coward ! 

Don Jose'. Hold your hand, sir! Hold! I allow 
no one to correct my menials, but myself. Concho, 
order my carriage! 

Concho. It is ready, sir. 

Don Jose. Then lead the way to it, for my daughter 
and her husband, John Oakhurst. — Good night, Mr. 
Morton. I can sympathize with you; for we have 
both found a son. I am willing to exchange my dis- 
missed servant for your dismissed partner. 

Slarbottle [advancing]. Ged, sir, I respect you! 
Ged, sir, permit me, sir, to grasp that honorable handl 



150 TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. 

Old Morton [excitedly]. He is right, my partner 
What have I done! The house of Morton & Son 
dissolved. The man known as my partner — a fugi- 
tive! No, Alexander! 

Starbotlle. One moment — a single moment ! As a 
lawyer, permit me to say, sir, that the whole com- 
plication may be settled, sir, by the — er — addition 
of — er — single letter! The house of Morton & Son 
shall hereafter read Morton & Sons. The papers for 
the legal adoption of Mr. Oakhurst are — er — in 
my pocket. 

Old Morton [more soberly]. Have it your own way, 
sir! Morton & Sons be it. Hark ye, Don Jose! We 
are equal at last. But — hark ye, Aleck! How about 
the boy, eh ? — my grandson, eh ? Ts this one of the 
sons by adoption ? 

Sandy [embarrassedly]. It is my own, sir. 

Capper [advancing]. He can with safety claim it; 
for the mother is on her way to Australia with her 
husband. 

Old Morton. And the schoolma'am, eh ? 

jliss Mary. She will claim the usual year of pro- 
bation for your prodigal, and then — 

Sandy. God bless ye, Miss Mary! 

Old Morton. I am in a dream! But the world — 
my friends — my patrons — how can I explain ? 

Starbottle. I will — er — explain. [Advancing slowly 
to front — to audience.] One moment — er — a single 
moment! If any thing that has— er — transpired 
this evening — might seem to you, ladies and gentle- 
men — er — morally or — er — legally — or honorably 



TWO MEN OF SANDY BAR. 151 

to require — er — apology or — er — explanation ! — 
permit me to say — that I — Col. Culpepper Star- 
bottle, hold myself responsible — er — personally 
responsible. 



Cajyper. Concho. 

Old Morton. Sandy. Miss Mary. DonJosk. Jovita. Odkhurat, 

Col. Starhottle. 



[Curtain.] 



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